


Astoreth does Ferelden

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Forbidden Love, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-02-12 20:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 218
Words: 308,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2124420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meet Astoreth Amell, horny little apprentice mage of the Circle. She knows nothing of her past. She knows nothing of the outside world. She only knows one thing: she needs to get herself some. And so she does, getting up to all sorts of questy Grey Warden things in the meantime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Circle - An Explosion of Frustration

**Author's Note:**

> Old and somehow still not finished. Working on it.

# Astoreth does Ferelden

## A tale of desire, darkspawn, deceit and diplomacy by Natmonkey

### The Circle - An Explosion of Frustration

I feel ready to go completely insane. Here I am, twenty-something years old and still a virgin, sleeping in a room with more than thirty other apprentice mages. Privacy is scarce here with all of us packed into these bunk beds, let me tell you. I've been in this tower for as long as I can remember with no memories of any other place. All I have is this silver necklace with a tear-shaped garnet for a pendant. Nobody knows whose it used to be, but I fancy it belonged to my mother. And of course there's Mister Muffin, the stuffed little bear I've had since forever. After many, many years of hugging there's not much left of him. I used to bring him to class, but a few years ago other apprentices began giving me funny looks and I realised it was too childish, bringing my bear with me.

My studies are beginning to bother me too. By now I know bloody well how to cast Winter's Grasp, thank you very much. Tome after tome and instruction after instruction… And to top it all off, I've been as horny as an old goat for the past couple of months. No matter how often I touch myself before going to sleep (as quietly as possible of course, although I am afraid the girl in the bed above mine is beginning to suspect something), this feeling just won't go away.

Some years ago I discovered this little button between my legs and found out that if I stroke it long enough, it will give me this extremely pleasant feeling that starts right there and then fans throughout my body like a tidal wave. From the talks of the birds and the bees the senior instructors gave, I know that this feeling is called an orgasm and my button a clitoris. But I don't like using these words. They sound so cold, sterile. I mean, vagina doesn't sound like a body part, it sounds like some kind of medicine. Anyway, all the orgasms in the world couldn't help me feel any better. I even have this candle under my pillow which I sometimes use to… Well, simulate actual sex with. Often I get so hot inside the thing almost melts. It's nice and all, but I bet it cannot compare to lying in someone's arms and feeling their warmth. Maker's breath, am I ever ready for a man's touch!

I wonder what it's like, you know? I've never actually seen a naked man, only drawings of them in some of the books here. They look… interesting. Very, very interesting. Time and time again have I begged Jowan to please, please, please sleep with me just once, and let me know what it feels like. He's my friend, so I trust him with such a thing. Surely not that much would change between us, right? But no, he declined and he apparently fell in love with someone, thoroughly ruining my chances. I haven't met her yet, and frankly I'm beginning to doubt she doesn't just live in his mind. Ah, well.

Love is another thing I wonder about. How would that feel? Whispered tales of some of the girls around here suggest it must be something grand indeed. A fabulous feeling, but with some side-effects such as a rapid heartbeat, your stomach twisting into knots, butterflies, lightness in the head… Actually some aspects of it sound like symptoms of a mysterious illness, if you think about it. So far I haven't had the privilege of suffering from it.

"Hi Astoreth!" And there we have Daniela, cheerful as always. I envy her. She always looks so happy, despite our joyless surroundings. And so pretty too, with her short golden hair and blue eyes. Not that I'm ugly, but I just don't feel all that pretty. Apart from Jowan Daniela's my only friend here, the only girl who can stand to put up with my quirks. All the others just think I'm weird. And well, they're right.

"Hi Danny. How are you?"

She gives me a big grin. "I have some juicy gossip for you…" she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

I can't help but grin back. That girl knows about everything that happens around here. "Do tell."

"I heard that Cullen is in love with you." Her voice is a whisper, although there isn't anyone around. I dig around in my mind. Right, that templar. Tall, broad (although that could just be the armour), hair the colour of copper, brown eyes and a nice smile. I especially like the gentle tone of his voice. Other than that I don't know much about him, except that he usually looks nervous around me. And here I've always thought he was just scared. I like him though, he's cute. This one time I even offered him some candy, but he didn't want any.

"You don't say…" I rub my chin. An interesting development. Naughty thoughts creep into my mind, all of them revolving around a certain unclad templar. The male mages are a scrawny lot, more used to training their minds rather than their bodies. I like my men with a little more meat on them. And by meat I mean muscle. Now, templars on the other hand, spend a lot of time in physical training. But sadly the Circle and the Chantry are forbidden to have relations with one another, if you get my meaning. Not that this stops any of us from fantasizing from time to time.

"You are a very lucky girl. You know, sometimes I just want to rip off his armour and…" Her voice trails off. We simultaneously utter a long sigh, caught up in our own little fantasies.

"Do you think it's true?" I would prefer to be completely sure. Getting turned down doesn't sound all that pleasant and neither does getting reported to the Chantry for being very naughty.

Daniela shrugs. "You see the way he gets around you. That can only mean one thing. So, what are you going to do about it?" She wiggles her eyebrows again, a habit I find charming and amusing.

"What do you think I'm going to do?" Now it's my turn to wiggle my eyebrows. "Although, I've never kissed a man. Gah, I don't even know how to seduce one. And don't forget it's forbidden for us mages to get involved with the templars." Suddenly I feel rather desperate. Surely I will die a withered old virgin.

"Now now, no need to fret. Forbidden fruit can taste so much sweeter, don't you think? Besides, I can help you with some of that." For some reason, my friend has a naughty smile on her face as she comes closer.

"Oh, do you have any…" _Experience with that,_ I wanted to ask, but before I could, she'd already pressed her lips to mine. I am shocked. Shocked, I tell you. Too shocked to tear myself away from her, in fact. Not that I want to. Her lips are soft and taste like cherries. Must be that lip balm she makes for herself. Not really the way I'd imagined my first kiss to be, but it's pleasant. And then her tongue slips into my mouth, Maker's breath, I've never felt anything like this in my life. As soon as it touches mine, it's like this jolt of electricity shoots through me. And I know how that feels, since I got zapped during practice once. So technically I have felt something similar before but thankfully, this doesn't hurt at all. Quite the contrary. After a few minutes of our tongues playing with one another, we let go. Daniela's giggling. "Well, that was… unexpected." I blink a couple of times and swallow. My throat feels dry.

"Just see it as training. A little gift from me to you." She smiles and winks. I'm so glad this won't affect our friendship. I need awkwardness between the only person I can spend hours talking about shoes with and me like I need an arrow between the eyes.

"I appreciate that, thank you. So if I were to initiate it…" This time I kiss her, pouring as much feeling into it as I possibly can. I imagine that makes it feel better. Nobody wants to suck face with a statue, now do they? When I let go of her, she looks surprised.

"Very good! You're a natural." Daniela looks a bit smug, probably proud she got to teach me something, and gives me two thumbs up.

"I'm still not sure about this. What if we get caught? I mean, maybe they'll even make me Tranquil." I fail in suppressing a shudder. The Tranquil are without emotion, unable to dream. Of course that would mean this lust wouldn't bother me anymore, but I happen to like experiencing dreams and emotions, even the bad ones. They just make life worth living.

"Nothing will happen if you're sneaky enough. And think of the alternative!" She giggles. "Why, you might even blow up our lovely tower in an explosion of frustration."

Very true. Lately I've become more and more agitated. Well… Anything to preserve the Circle, right? "So what should I wear? All I have are these robes." I look down. They look nice enough with the shades of blue and purple we apprentices are required to wear, but they lack a certain appeal. After all, I'm covered from my ankles to my chin.

"The robes are just fine. They show off your figure nicely. All you should do is…" I feel her hands unhook my robes to just above my breasts. Strange how exposing just a small portion of skin can make one feel so bare. "And would you get rid of that boring bun of yours already?" She rolls her eyes at me. I feel offended. Can I help it if I'm practical?

"Certainly not." I will most certainly not get rid of it. I am as attached to it as it is to me.

"Fine, fine. Suit yourself then. By the way, I hear your templar is on guard duty in our very own quarters. Tonight, around midnight." Again her eyebrows wiggle.

"He's not _my_ templar. Not yet anyway." My face must look rather silly right now, a wide grin plastered to it. Ah, the things I could do with him. I don't rightly know what exactly, but I'm sure I will make it up as I go. That is, if he wants me. Then something hits me. "Where does one get privacy around here? I can't just drag him to my bed and let all the others listen in on our activities, now can I?" Curse this tower and its quarters crammed full of apprentices!

"And if you're very, very quiet?" Daniela's lips curve upward into a wicked smile. "Must be exciting, feeling all that pleasure and not being able to scream it out." Well, she does have a point there. That sounds exciting indeed. I would certainly give it a shot if there weren't so much at stake. Suddenly Danny snaps her fingers. "I know! In the library, there's a quiet corner just behind a bookcase. I can assure you there is more than enough room for two and the library is abandoned at night. I even left some pillows and blankets to make it comfortable." Now that sounds nice; being surrounded by old tomes and soft pillows, making love for the first time. I approve! With that problem solved, the poor girl looks almost envious of me.

"Wouldn't you rather have him?" I'm hoping she'll say no. Please say no. Her eyes widen in surprise and she starts laughing.

"Did you get hit in the head? If the man's in love with you, he'll certainly not want anything to do with me. And it's no matter; there are plenty of boys who would gladly give their right arm for some of my affection." She smiles and sighs, a dreamy look in her eyes. That's another reason I envy this girl. Not just because she's so popular, but she's apparently got a great deal of experience with men. Still, she doesn't kiss and tell, ever. Andraste knows I've asked her about it many, many times. I hope I can be as discrete. "Well, I better get going. I have a date," Daniela says with a big smile. I feel slightly jealous.

"Have fun then. Tell me all about it later."

She laughs. "You know I never do. Bye!" And with that, she's off. Lucky, lucky girl.

I sit in front of the vanity and look at my face in the mirror. I suppose I don't look too bad, with these big brown eyes and full lips. My hair is black with a blue lustre. Jowan, in a poetic mood induced by copious amounts of wine, once likened it to a raven's wing. Despite all that wine, he still wouldn't sleep with me though. Instead he just cuddled up to me and fell asleep in my bed, snoring into my ear. Maybe my nose is a bit on the large side, but I shouldn't complain. It could be so much worse, after all. But what is wrong with my bun? I look at my bear sitting next to the mirror.

"What do _you_ think, Mister Muffin?" Of course he doesn't answer. My talking to an inanimate object is one of the reasons I don't have too many friends. Well, at least I think I look nice like this. And surely Cullen does too, so there. Take that, Danny! Fortunately I have no more lessons to distract me so I can get all nervous about tonight. Lovely.


	2. The Circle - Seduction of the Innocent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth attempts to seduce Cullen. Will she succeed?

### The Circle - Seduction of the Innocent

It's dark. My heart is racing in my chest, terrible. I spent hours playing with myself, stroking my button to orgasm six times and thrusting the candle between my wet nether lips. It's rather annoying how I can't make any noise in here; all I can do is open my mouth and pray no sound comes out. So far my prayers have not been in vain. I'm so wet now I can almost feel droplets running down the insides of my thighs. Every fibre of my body seems to be tense and aroused. I cannot take this anymore. I swear, if I do not get Cullen to lie with me tonight I _will_ burn this place down.

Everyone else is sound asleep (for as far as I can tell anyway) and I can hear the clatter of heavy armour outside the doors and voices briefly talking. One of them is the one I've been waiting for. It's almost time for me to make my appearance. Soon I hear one pair of heavy feet walking away and I quietly get out of bed. I put on my robes, keeping them unhooked from my neck to just above my breasts. Aw, I'll just open another few hooks, I'm sure that won't hurt. There.

My shoeless feet make no sound on the stone floor as I silently open the door and step out. There he is, his back turned towards me. Maker, what am I supposed to say? Clearly I should've thought this through a little better. It feels as if all of the blood in my body has rushed to my face, surely leaving me to look as red as a poppy. Oh dear, he must've heard me because he's turning around. Should I run? Ah, too late.

As soon as he sees me, the poor man goes beetroot. His eyes have this fearful look, even as they leave my face and briefly glance a short distance lower. "Oh, uhm, h-hello," he stutters. "Y-you should be in bed at this time." Yes, with you.

"Good evening." I try to make my voice sound seductive but I'm too nervous. Gah, this is more difficult than I thought. "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd just come over and keep you company."

"I… I see. But surely you need your rest?" Heh, it's so cute to see him fidget like this. It doesn't feel like this is going anywhere though, so I might as well just get straight to the point.

"Trust me, there are things I need more than rest." I had never thought I would ever say anything so suggestive out loud.

"What might that be?" Cullen asks me in a slightly curious tone of voice. I really wonder what he's hiding under that armour. But Maker willing I will find out tonight. Or blow up this tower.

"You." There, sweet and simple. Huh, would you look at that. I didn't think he could become any redder, but there it is. Amazing.

"M-me? My goodness. You don't mean…" I can tell from the gasping and clutching at his heart that he knows full well what I mean. Andraste's mercy, I hope the poor thing won't suffer a heart attack.

"I heard you're in love with me, even. Is it true?" If it's not, I'm going to hold off on blowing up the place until after I've set Daniela's hair on fire.

Apparently words fail him. "I… I…" is all he can choke out before he falls silent and begins staring at his feet. I can barely hear what he says next. "Maker forgive me, but yes… It's true." Now I'm at a loss for words. I can't truly say I feel the same, because I don't. I think. Suddenly he looks me straight in the eye. It's as if he feels ashamed of what he just told me. That probably has something to do with the whole Chantry versus Circle thing. Either that, or I'm really hideous. Surely it must be the former. I hope it is. "But it would be… really inappropriate and… I couldn't." He looks poised to run off. "I-I should go."

Well now, that went rather badly. But, in for a silver, in for a crown as they say. I grab a hold of the sash around his waist and give it a sharp yank as he turns to leave. I'm lucky it's tied properly, or I would have acquired a sash I don't have any use for, instead of an entire man I most certainly do have a use for. He must be too scared to resist, because with my poor strength he could still easily give me the go-by. Instead he stays frozen and stares at me in horror. I move closer to him, still holding the sash in my hand.

"Don't be afraid." My voice comes out in a whisper as I curve my free arm around his shoulder. My fingers stroke through the hair at the nape of his neck. It's so soft. All of a sudden I feel the urge to calm him down, make him feel at ease. Before even I know what's going on I close the distance between us and stand on my toes to touch my lips to his mouth. It feels good, but in my mind I know this is wrong. He's right, this is really inappropriate. I'm a mage and he's a templar; he should be making sure I behave, not enable me to do... this. So as much as it pains me, I let go of him and take a step back. "I'm so sorry, Cullen. I…"

I don't even get a chance to finish my sentence as his metal-clad arms encircle my waist and once again pull me closer to him, his mouth on mine. The metal of his breastplate is cold against my bared chest, but it doesn't bother me. The tenderness of his kiss lights a fire in my belly and the warmth spreads through my entire body. Well, if this is wrong I don't… never mind, that's too cliché, even for me. Kissing Danny felt nice, but this… This is out of this world. One of his hands creeps up my back while his tongue gently caresses mine. _This_ is how I'd imagined my first kiss, sweet and exciting. And I will count it as such too. Like my dear friend said, that with her was just training.

The hand on my back goes higher, stroking the back of my neck. His other hand is now resting on my bum, giving it a squeeze from time to time. Clearly he doesn't find it inappropriate anymore. And you know what, neither do I. I need this. I should have the opportunity, nay, the very _right_ to experience this! The fire in my stomach grows as he detaches his mouth from mine and his lips trail down my neck, making me moan involuntarily. I could probably climax from this alone. Then I realise that there are give or take thirty mages sleeping on the other side of the wall. The walls here are thick, yes, but someone is bound to notice eventually.

"Hold on a moment." I gently push him away from me. Immediately my body feels cold and empty, as if something is missing. From the almost sad look on Cullen's face I can tell he must feel the same as I do. "Maybe we should continue this elsewhere."

The sad look on his face is replaced by a bright smile. "Lead on," he says. I grab his hand and guide him to the library. It's difficult not to break into a sprint, but somehow I manage to restrain myself. It's easy to find the corner Daniela mentioned, if you know what to look for. Behind a book case (filled with books on biology, ha-ha) a thick blanket is spread over the cold stones, several large pillows strewn across it. Another blanket lies neatly folded to the side. Through the window the small area is bathed in moonlight. Wow, it's pretty much a picture that would be placed next to the definition of "romantic" in an illustrated dictionary.

From behind Cullen wraps his arms around my waist again and gives me a sweet little kiss below the ear. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he whispers in my ear. Sure, _me_? It wasn't me stammering about this being inappropriate, ready to run away. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this change of heart makes me a bit wary.

"Are _you_? What made you change your mind?" It better not be demonic possession or something equally unpleasant.

"I suspect I'll wake up any moment now, hugging my pillow, frustrated." His voice sounds dreamy. I know what he means. Erotic dreams bother me too from time to time, although the males there are usually faceless and anonymous. Oh no, this isn't a dream is it? Waking up from those is the worst.

"I'll pinch you if you pinch me." It was just a joke, which I thought was obvious, but he pinches my cheek. Really, really hard. "Ow! Are you crazy? I was only joking." I rub the painful spot. Someday, I will have my revenge for this. When he least expects it.

"I-I'm sorry." He grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around. How sweet, he looks truly concerned for me. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, worry in his voice. Oh, this should be good. Revenge shall be mine!

I sniffle a little and say in a pout: "Yes, you did." I realise it's manipulative to play the guilt card like this, but my cheek is burning like you wouldn't know. And the look on his face is so worth it. I'm such an evil, evil person.

"Please don't be angry with me." Oh, great. Now _I_ feel guilty. Poor thing sounds so sad, just look at those puppy eyes. Not that I've ever seen a real puppy, but in the pictures I've seen of them they often have these huge, pitiful eyes. Well, that one sure came back to bite me in the bum.

"Of course I'm not angry with you. Just next time, try to be gentle." Or don't pinch me at all, that would work for me too. I shouldn't whine though, it's my own fault for making a stupid joke like that. I run my fingers through his hair and feel its softness. Mmm, I could just do this all day long. He bends down and kisses my cheek, exactly where he hurt me not a moment ago. The burning immediately fades to a dull throbbing. Well, what do you know? You can _really_ kiss something better. "Thank you. If you would take off your armour, I could thank you properly…" I briefly brush my lips against his and wink. This seduction thing is getting easier and easier. His blush turns a deeper shade of red.

"I-I, uhm…" Again with the stuttering and fidgeting. I swear, we could go on like this until daybreak and still get no further.

"Allow me to be blunt with you. Life is short, you know? The way I see it, we can both walk away right now and wonder for the rest of our lives what could've been, or we just do what our hearts tell us to." Or in my case, what my private parts tell me to. Maker's breath, am I dripping wet right now. Although I have to admit, being around this man evokes certain unknown feelings in me. He's just so… I don't know. Cute? Sweet? Either way a stale speech needs an equally stale finishing statement. "So tell me Cullen, what does _your_ heart tell you to do?" Can't get any cornier than this, I'm sure. It's kind of difficult not to burst out laughing. But now I see he looks determined. Imagine that.

"You're right!" he says, maybe a little louder than he should. I wish he would keep it down, but something seems to have awakened a passion in him. "I have been madly in love with you for such a long time. Every waking moment I try to suppress any thoughts of you, only to be haunted by them in my sleep." That's very sweet and everything but blood and damnation, he's likely to wake everyone up if he keeps yelling like this. So I cup his face in my hands and kiss him, slipping my tongue into his mouth. A surprised moan escapes his throat, but then he's silent, except for his heavy breathing. As our tongues twirl around each other, I can hear telltale sounds of metal clattering onto stone. Ah, I can't wait to see him stripped of all that cold metal, in nothing but bare skin. I just want to feel _him_ under my hands, I want to feel Cullen, not that hard shell around him.

Now that his hands are bare, I can feel them on my hips, hot enough to burn holes into my robes. The cold plate against my chest is replaced by soft cotton. I really feel like taking off everything right now, but I should be patient. This is my first time after all, there's no rush. Could it be his first time too? I don't know much about the customs of these templar fellows. He just seems so sure of himself. Apart from when he speaks, that is.

"Have you done this before?" I ask, having pried myself away from him with great effort. My body doesn't want to be away from his, it seems. Without his outer shell, in only a white shirt and simple brown pants, he looks even better. More human, I would say.

Cullen just shakes his head in response to my question and brings me closer yet again in a possessive gesture, as if he's laying claim to me. I rather like the feeling, I must say. Mmm, and I like feeling his lips on my neck even better. Every one of those little kisses sends a wave of heat through my skin, setting me on fire. Never done this before my eye, surely this isn't the work of a novice. I have to focus. All I'm doing right now is moaning and enjoying myself, while I do want to get to know his body in and out. So to speak. I don't plan on cutting him open to see what's inside. Yuck, perish the thought.

All right, Astoreth. Focus! You can do it. Try to… Oh my, he smells nice. Kind of like the herbs I use for the poultices to treat burns. Meanwhile I can feel him sucking at my neck with his teeth scraping across my skin, both a painful and pleasurable sensation. I wonder why he's doing that. No, no. Focus! You're a mage damn it, your mind is sharp, your will strong! In an act of rebellion against my own weakening mind, I grab Cullen's shirt at the collar and just rip it open down the front.

"Hey hey, calm down," he mumbles into my ear. His warm breath on my skin is going to drive me crazy! And here I thought just being horny would bring me to insanity.

"It's not my fault you're so damned irresistible." I'm a smooth operator, yes I am. I let my hands explore his torso. His skin feels so warm and soft and smooth. His flesh isn't yielding, but it's not rock-hard either. But I do feel something else that's rock-hard against my stomach. So this is an actual male member. Fascinating! I poke into it with my finger. Apparently he finds this funny, because I can hear him chuckling. When I lay my hand over it, I can feel the shape. It's not like my candle at all. No, it's bigger. Yay! Well, now that I have a mental image I need a visual image too. I slip my fingers over the top of his pants and try to pull them down. No luck.


	3. The Circle - Helping Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth treats Cullen to a little show.

### The Circle - Helping Myself

"Don't," he says, his hand stopping mine. "Let's just go slow." His voice has taken on a hoarse tone, so very sexy. I still want to take off his pants, but how can I resist when he sounds like this?

"As you wish." I must sound like some fawning idiot, but I can't help it. He just brings that out in me. If he won't allow me to look at his member, I should at least be able to play with it a little. I lay my hand on his erection again, stroking it up and down. Judging from the soft moaning sounds coming from him I must be doing it right. His moans excite me even more; it's a good thing I have such a strong mind or I would've torn off his pants and jumped him already. Suddenly I feel as I'm levitating. Never mind, I'm not levitating. Cullen's swept me off my feet and I'm secure in his arms. Never in all of my life have I felt this safe, this… loved. Well, I imagine that's what this is anyway. All my life I've been looking for something more than knowledge of the arcane, something more than the praise of instructors, something more than the affection of my two only friends. And looking into his eyes, this must be it. Those wonderful eyes, just brimming with emotion... I think I'm about to start crying. "What are you thinking of?" I should get to know him better first. Getting him to sleep with me isn't as important anymore. Strange how one's priorities can shift in a single instant.

His reply surprises me. "You. You are _so_ beautiful," he says, breathless. And then he kisses me again and all I can do is close my eyes in bliss and wrap my arms around his neck. The sensation in my stomach is so intense it almost hurts. I feel he's lowering me, gently placing me atop the soft pillows. It's like lying on a cloud.

Surely tomorrow I'll be kicking myself for saying this, but: "Maybe we should wait. Maybe we should get to know each other better before we take such a great step."

He stares at me in surprise, eyebrows raised. "I thought this was what you wanted, what you came to me for," he says softly. I had no idea I was that easy to read. Although the open robes might've given me away. But no, I don't want to simply spend the night with him and nothing more. I suppose that's how it was before, but not anymore.

"Ah, well." How should I explain this? "It's true that I wanted to bed you. But I..." I would like to tell him I care for him, Maker help me, love him even. This unknown, fantastic feeling, it _must_ be love. I've never felt anything like it, ever. The butterflies in my stomach are a happy feeling, not an unpleasant one. I'd always thought feeling something fluttering about inside would be... annoying to say the least.

Cullen sits up straight and sighs. "Do you mean you no longer wish me to spend the night with you?" Oh no, that's not at all what I meant. He sounds hurt and unhappy.

"No, no. Please don't think that. I just..." I swallow audibly. Just get it out in the open, girl, so we all know where we stand. "I care too much for you to just overwhelm you like this. So if you think we should postpone this, I am willing to." I look into his eyes and stroke his cheek, in a way I hope feels reassuring.

Since he lies down and covers my body with his, I suppose he doesn't think we should postpone this. I'm glad, really. My emotional needs may surpass my physical ones, but that doesn't mean the latter are gone. "So you feel the same as I do," I hear his voice in my ear. There is relief in his voice, and joy.

"That depends on how you feel."

Briefly he is silent. And then I hear him say those three magic words, in a barely audible whisper: "I love you." This wave of emotion that's washing over me right now is likely to drown me, so overwhelming. Yes, I feel the same as he does and so I tell him. We kiss again, my heart races in my chest and I could not possibly be any happier. My hands appear to be acting on their own, disappearing under his torn shirt and caressing his back and sides. His arms are around my waist, tightly encircling it and holding me close. If I could I would burrow my way into him and get even closer. But we can get closer in another way. I slide his shirt down his shoulders, but he's still clinging to me like a barnacle.

"Come darling, let go of me a moment so I can undress you." I am unaccustomed to giving anyone a pet name, but I kind of like it. It gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling.

"No, I don't want to let go," he mutters. Ah, how adorable! I bury my face in his neck and deeply breathe in his intoxicating scent. My head is spinning a little.

"All right. We'll spend the rest of your guard duty kissing and cuddling then..." I hope this will stir him into action. Wonder how much time we have left?

"Maker, I'd forgotten all about that." And without further ado he sits up and begins unhooking my robes. He isn't very successful; his hands are trembling too much. I imagine my slipping my hand into his pants and gripping his member doesn't help either. It fits right in my hand, hard yet soft, pulsating slightly under my touch. He gasps as soon as my hand closes around him. Clumsily I run my hand along his length, eliciting a low moaning sound from him. I don't really know how to treat one of these, so I better be careful. I mean, what if I break it? "Don't distract me so," he moans, still fumbling with my robes.

"As you wish." I don't really want to, but I let go of him anyway and help him undo all of the hooks. His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets when he sees me in my unmentionables. I can understand. Although I'm now out of my outer garments, most of my skin is still covered. I get cold really easily and this tower lacks warmth, so while the others can get away with wearing only a brassiere to support their chest, I have to wear an entire bodice. And no short socks for me either, no, only thick thigh-high stockings. It must be surprising to see all this fabric when you expect naked skin.

Cullen's looking down on me, his eyes moving up and down my body almost shamelessly. For some reason being looked at like this makes me even hotter. My hand is in my panties before I know it. The area between my legs is wet, so very wet and now my fingers are too. His eyes are burning on my skin, feeding the fire that he sparked within me. I close my eyes and touch myself. Soon everything else fades, drowned out by my fingers making circles around my swollen little bump. I know, I know, it's selfish of me. But I believe this is a show he will want to see, no?

Somewhere I can hear heavy breathing, punctuated by an occasional moan. None of that matters; only my slick fingers and the tiny organ they're caressing matter. More than that, only they seem to exist. No, worse still, I _am_ only those fingers and that organ. Only when my orgasm comes on do I become more aware of the rest of my body. It starts like a tiny explosion of pleasure deep in my underbelly and from there travels through my entire body in every direction. I can't keep quiet this time; I writhe and wriggle, moan and scream, my unoccupied hand clawing at the blanket I am lying upon. When the feeling dies down, I take my hand out of my panties and lick my fingers like I often do. I taste kind of acidic.

"Did you like that?" My voice comes out in a husky whisper. There's no answer. Dear me, I must've shocked him greatly. I pry my eyes open. "Cullen? Are you... _Oh_." My, my, I don't think he's shocked at all.

He is only occupied, it seems. Sitting on his knees in front of me, his hand has disappeared into his pants. He's playing with himself quite enthusiastically, his gaze fixed on me. I cannot help but stare in fascination and awe. Finally I have the opportunity to feast my eyes on his form. He's not as broad as the armour makes him look, but his muscles are well-defined. The small patch of hair on his chest has a coppery colour and narrows into a thin line running down the middle of his stomach, leading all the way down into his pants. I can hardly contain myself for joy, Maker, is he _gorgeous_!

I want to touch him so badly, shower him with kisses, caress every inch of his skin. With my eyes glued to the motions of his hand, I get on my knees as well. My lips automatically move to his neck, kissing and nipping their way down, arms wrapped around his waist. I linger at the soft hollow below his throat. It seems especially sensitive, making him moan softly when I touch it with my tongue. I could spend hours like this, but there is no time like the present.

I make my way down his chest, down his stomach, kissing, licking and nibbling. His hand grazes my chin as I stick my tongue into his bellybutton, just for fun. Only a little lower and I will be where I want to be. Slowly I unlace his pants. This time he has no objections. Goodness, is everything about him perfect or something? His member has a slightly darker shade than the rest of his body and it's not entirely straight, curving upward a little. The top part looks a bit like a mushroom cap, but narrower, in a lovely pink colour. It is a wonderful looking organ. I cannot resist closing my hand around the base and placing a kiss on the tip of his erection.

My templar gasps in surprise upon feeling my lips and hand on him. His hand immediately stops moving; my cue to start doing something nice for him. Sadly I don't know much about pleasing a man, I'm afraid. Tentatively I lick the groove at the tip. Just this small motion sends tremors through his entire body, approving moans sounding from deep within his throat. Good. I open my mouth and trace little circles around the tip with my tongue, then run it all the way up and down the length of him. All I hear from him now is panting and an occasional moan. But all I _want_ to hear is loud moaning and sometimes maybe my name; I'm not too demanding. Guess it's time to kick it up a notch.


	4. The Circle - Frustrated No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clue is in the title.

### The Circle - Frustrated No More

I close my lips around the tip and suck on it, taking care not to use my teeth in any way. My hand moves up and down the shaft. From what I've seen him do, you can be pretty rough with these things. Before long I feel his hands on my head, pushing me down and directing my movements. I can use all the help I can get, frankly. He urges me to go faster, and faster, and faster.

"Oh, Astoreth," he moans. See, that's what I was waiting for. I could just about do a victory dance. Suddenly he begins throbbing wildly in my mouth and even swells a little further. His moans increase in intensity. What does this mean, I wonder? And then something comes out of him and I know what it means. This something is kind of warm, viscous... and _bitter_! I can't help but contort my face into a disgusted expression. Yuck, I'd never expected semen to taste like this. The books describe it as salty. Filthy liars. Nevertheless, I swallow all of it and even lick him clean. The things one does for love. I'm sure I'll get plenty of opportunities to get used to the taste. "That was amazing," Cullen says in a dreamy voice. "I especially liked uhm, what you were doing with yourself." I can almost hear his very voice blush. Isn't he just the cutest? I fling my arms around him and let myself fall down onto the pillows, taking him with me. He lands on top of me with a little yelp. "Did I hurt you?" Again he sounds truly worried. These templars are probably raised with the notion that women are delicate flowers who should be treated as if made from porcelain. It is a sweet idea, but it does not apply to me.

"Of course not, silly. I'm tough as nails, trust me." I kiss his lips and run my hand through his hair again.

"O-okay. If you say so." He nuzzles my neck and sighs. His hand is on my hip, petting me through the cotton of my unmentionables. I open the first button of my bodice.

"Would you like to see me... well, you know?" Naked just sounds so rude. Cullen chuckles and nods vehemently, his eyes sparkling.

"I would love that. May I?" With my permission he undoes the buttons on my bodice himself, without his hands trembling. I look at his face while he's busy undressing me. My darling is staring at my chest intently, especially as he moves to take off my bodice entirely. I feel very vulnerable with my upper body exposed like this. "I've never seen breasts before," he whispers. He sounds most impressed.

"And what do you think of them?"

I've never before seen him smile the way he does now. He looks naughty, full of mischief. Mmm. "Can't tell you before I feel them." His hands cover my breasts and gently squeeze them. Normally I don't do much with my breasts because they don't appear to have a lot of feeling in them, but oh boy, do I feel _this_. My nipples harden against his palms, harder than they've ever been I think. Oh my goodness! He's gently rolling them between his fingers now. It feels _awesome_. The sensation is akin to the pleasure of an orgasm, but unlike that, this feeling stays mainly in my breasts. I simply have to close my eyes. Then I feel him on top of me, his hands still occupied with my chest. "You know, I've always imagined they would be harder. Never have I felt anything softer." His breath blows against my ear and even that feels nice. My hand has a will of its own, moving from his chest, down his stomach and caressing his member before grabbing a hold of it.

"Please, please, please don't make me wait any longer." I don't care if I sound pathetic. "Make love to me, now." And I don't care if I sound whiny either. My hand continues its stroking motions; I hear him moaning in my ear.

"No, not yet." I can tell from the sound of his voice that he finds me hard to resist. If only I were as irresistible to him as he is to me, but alas, I will have to wait before I can feel him inside of me. "I want to do the same for you as you did for me." Aw, isn't that sweet?

"Well, you can't. I don't have the same equipment you do." I have no choice but to chuckle at this sad attempt of humour. I've never been very funny.

"I will simply have to make do then," Cullen says with a hint of a smile in his voice. At least he's not put off by my pathetic joke. I feel his lips on my neck, making their way to between my breasts. All this feels like a wonderful dream. If it is, I don't want to wake up. Ever.

My back tenses into an arch when I feel his tongue on my right nipple. Damn, that feels nice. His teeth have now joined in, nibbling gently. I still cannot believe he is doing this for the first time. His every touch makes me squirm. In a good way, I mean. He gives my other nipple an equally pleasant treatment before continuing down my stomach. I wonder how I feel to him. "Plump" comes to mind. I could stand to be thinner, but I just keep telling myself I need a little extra fat to keep myself warm in here.

Maker's mercy, it's like he is all over me, everywhere at the same time. All I can do is lay back, relax and utter unholy moans. I feel my panties sliding down my hips, down my thighs and my calves. Hmm, I hope he likes what he sees. It feels awkward; nobody has ever seen me naked. Although I'm technically not completely naked, since I'm still wearing my stockings. I must look really silly.

"You are such a beautiful creature," I hear him say from somewhere above me. His hand is on my underbelly. I pry one eye open to look up at him.

"You think so?" My face feels warm; I must be blushing like mad. His compliments make me feel a bit shy.

"No. I know it." He smiles at me and crouches between my legs. This is _so_ exciting!

"Do you need any pointers?" If he's new at this, he will.

Cullen looks up at me. "That would be nice. I am at a loss here." Heh, it should be fun teaching him how to please me. I place my hand between my legs and point at my button.

"See this?" When he nods, I continue: "This is where it all happens. And down here," I stick a finger between my lips, "is my entrance. I guess that's all you need to know. The rest is up to you." I lick my finger. Now we wait.

"I, uhm..." Oh dear, that doesn't sound good. I prop myself up on my elbows and catch him staring at my private parts in confusion.

"Would you like me to show you?" I take his hand and softly kiss the palm.

He's blushing furiously. I can't believe how adorable he is. "If you would be so kind."

"As you wish, then. But I would like a kiss first." As soon as he leans over me, I wrap my arms and legs around his wonderful frame and kiss him as if it would be my last kiss ever. His hard-on presses against my stomach. "Now then, sit back and watch me," I whisper into his ear. It seems Cullen has to tear himself away from me, but nevertheless he takes a seat near my feet and looks at me expectantly. I spread my legs and rub the fingers of my right hand between my inner lips to make them slick and wet. This always makes it more pleasant. My middle and ring finger trace little circles around my button, while I use my pinkie and forefinger to keep my outer lips open. Again pleasure takes control of me and I forget everything but my fingers and my swollen little bump.

I immediately snap back to reality when I feel his soft tongue on me. "I think I get it now," he mumbles. His tongue taps my clitoris and mimics my own movements, twirling circles around it. I'm so aroused my orgasm approaches with great strides. My back arches, I push his head deeper into my lap and clench my legs shut. I couldn't open them if I wanted to. I can't control my voice either: I scream like a lunatic as I ride the waves of pleasure washing over me. This feels so much more powerful than when I do it myself. When the feeling ebbs away, my legs flop apart. Cullen emerges from between them, gasping and wheezing. Poor thing has turned red in the face.

I scurry to my feet and hug him. "I'm sorry. Are you all right?" In the meantime I use this opportunity to take off his shirt.

"Don't worry, I'm fine." He kisses me again, and I taste myself on his lips. "Did I please you?" His beautiful eyes stare at me in what looks like adoration.

I laugh. "Did you ever! I wasn't screaming from pain, you know." I lean back into the pillows and beckon him to come to me. I can tell he's as eager as I am from the way he scrambles to peel off his pants. For the first time tonight I notice how the moonlight illuminates him, making him look ethereal, angelic. It takes my breath away.

Our eyes lock and we keep staring at each other as he lowers himself and lies down atop my body. I feel his hand in my hair. "May I?" Never has anyone looked at me with such tenderness.

"May you what?" I'm not really sure what he means.

"Will you let your hair down for me?" I am shocked. He thinks my bun is boring too!

"Well, if you like. Is it because you think my hair looks boring like this?" Maybe I should rethink always wearing it in a bun.

"No, you look lovely. But I've never seen you with your hair down." He has an almost pleading look in his eyes. How could I resist? I remove each and every pin that keeps my bun in place and uncoil my hair. It falls around my shoulders in many wild strands. "You should wear it like this more often." His voice and gaze echo appreciation. I am glad. Letting my hair down is like an act of surrender in itself. I think he is the only one who has ever seen me like this.

"As you wish." That's all I can say.

Cullen runs his fingers through my hair and looks me in the eyes. "So uhm," he clears his throat, "are you ready?" His blush deepens once again.

"I can't wait." And that's the truth. I'm practically shaking with anticipation. He rubs the tip of his member between my lips.

"Here?" He got it exactly right; so close now. Here I am, twenty years old and ready to lose my virginity to someone I should not even be consorting with. But it feels right and life is short, so why not? I thrust my hips in his direction and the first inch of him slips into me. This small portion alone is enough to make me squeal with delight.

"Yes, right there." The reaction he shows to my impertinent act surpasses everything. His body almost convulses while he throws back his head and moans.

"Maker's breath! Th-this feels... so..." He opens and closes his mouth, probably unsure what to say. And then he begins slowly, so slowly I almost scream in frustration, inching his way into me. This feeling is divine. Like my most intimate area is being stretched out gently but thoroughly in an extremely pleasant manner. I imagine this is how my stockings feel when I put them on. They must be very happy garments indeed. I loosely wrap my legs around my templar's waist. After what seems like an eternity of him teasingly slipping in, he is buried in me to the root. I can feel him throbbing within me, while my muscles contract around him. It's as if I have died and gone to paradise. "Are you all right? No pain?" Cullen looks at me with worry in his eyes. He must really care for me a lot. And actually, no, I feel no pain at all. That candle really paved the way for him. Or it was because he took such care not to hurt me.

"None at all. You are treating me very well." I sigh and ruffle his hair. I feel very happy. In fact, if I get any happier I fear my heart will burst. "Please, continue."

He nods and slowly pulls out of me a ways, then pushes himself back in. Everything goes black before my eyes as he repeats his motions. I have never felt anything like this. Not my first mastered spell, not my first orgasm, not my first kiss, nothing can compare to the sensation his gentle thrusting generates. I moan, I pant, I call his name; everything is veiled in a fine mist of lust, love and pleasure. Faintly I hear him whispering my name, telling me how good this feels, how much he loves me. For some reason tears flow from my eyes. They must be tears of joy. After all, I've finally found what I've wanted for so long.

"Don't cry, love. What have I done wrong?" He stops thrusting into me and wipes away my tears with great tenderness. My vision is so blurry I can hardly see him.

"I just love you so much!" I can't help it; I start bawling like a baby and there's nothing I can do about it. Soothing words are murmured into my ear, strong arms envelop me and he continues making love to me. Soon my bawling turns to sobbing and then once again, pleasure takes over me. His mouth covers mine and he slips his tongue between my lips. And as we kiss, everything is complete. All my senses are ablaze with delight; I feel his feverishly hot body pressing me down, his soft skin slick with sweat just like my own; I smell the old tomes surrounding us and the mint like scent that comes from my lover; I hear our cries mingle into a true symphony of pleasure, love and lust; I taste the both of us on my tongue, the bitter flavour of his seed and the acidic one of my own juices; I see only darkness, because my eyes are closed.

"Oh no," he groans. I open my eyes to see what's going on. "I'm nearly there. I'm sorry." I can tell from the pained expression of his features he's trying very hard to hold off on climaxing.

"That's all right, darling. Just let it happen." I'm curious to see the expression on his face when that intense feeling of pleasure washes over it. His thrusts become harder and harder; he throbs noticeably within me. I tighten my muscles around his member (I know how to control them) and after one final, almost unbearably deep thrust he announces his orgasm. His eyes roll back into his head and a raw cry escapes his throat. I can feel his member expand inside of me a little. His handsome face is contorted into a mask of intense passion, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. That there is the most awesome thing I've ever seen. With a mighty sigh he collapses onto me. "You're heavy!" He presses down on me so hard I have to choke these words out.

"I'm sorry." Immediately he gets off me and flops onto his back. His chest rises and falls with his rapid breathing. I grab the folded blanket and spread it out over him. Cullen's closed his eyes and is smiling. He looks so sweet. I get under the soft blanket as well and cuddle up to him. I can only sigh contently as he takes me into his arms and kisses my forehead. His heartbeat drums against my ear, powerful and steady.

"That was amazing." I'm sure my voice is filled with adoration, as he deserves for his performance.

"It was, wasn't it? Are you sure you're not in any pain?" He caresses my cheek and smiles at me sweetly.

"No pain, but I seem to be leaking. Wish I had a towel, or something." His semen is trickling out of me slowly. I feel a bit sticky.

"Ah, well, I'm glad you feel all right at least." His hand absently strokes my hair.

"So, was this your first time?" I'm curious. It sure didn't seem like it was his first time. Then again, sometimes it did.

Again he is blushing furiously. "It was. It's just that I've dreamed if this so many times, all I had to do was… repeat what I did there."

"You dreamed of this, or you dreamed of me?" Dreaming of me, hah, that would be something. I can't imagine anyone liking me enough for that, but apparently it is possible.

Cullen chuckles. "Both. Of you, and this. Combined, usually." He clasps his hand to his mouth and yawns. I feel a bit sleepy too and can't help but yawn too. It must be contagious. My eyelids get heavy; I can hardly keep my eyes open.

"Astoreth?" His voice is just a whisper.

"Hmmm?" It's so difficult to focus now. Sleepy.

"I love you." Another kiss on my forehead, strong arms around me. I feel safe.

"I love you too," I mumble. Then everything begins fading away as sleep comes over me.


	5. The Circle - Sexy Messenger Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroine finally gets the news of her upcoming Harrowing.

### The Circle - Sexy Messenger Service

I wake up in my own bed. I don't remember going to bed. Aw nuts, all that was just a dream. Humbug, it felt so real. It's like I can still smell Cullen's delicious scent. Oh, wait. I still smell his scent because I'm wearing his shirt. My own robes lie crumpled at the foot of my bed. Happy day! I'm a virgin no longer! I jump out of bed and run to the mirror. Everyone else is gone, which means lessons have already begun. I had better hurry.

I don't look any different, except that my hair is still down. Funny, I thought that losing one's virginity was a rite of passage that would bring about some change. But there's no physical change. Well, except that I'm ready for more of what Cullen has to offer. Ah, he was amazing indeed. I pull up my hair to get it into my good old bun.

"What is this?" I am in the mildly insane habit of speaking to myself when nobody's around. There's a vivid red spot on the side of my neck. Is that…? I remember him sucking at my neck, his teeth scraping my skin. "Mister Muffin!" I tell my bear. "He has _marked_ me!" This here is a love bite. I feel kind of proud. I belong to someone. I'm sure if he could, Mister Muffin would've given me thumbs up. Nevertheless, I should hide it. Great, now I have no choice but to wear my hair down. I quickly brush it, hide the tattered shirt and get dressed. Where did my panties go? Not that I was going to wear _those_ sodden things today. Oh well, I hope I don't get chewed out too badly.

~*|'-'|*~

Well, this has just been one fine day. First I was scolded for being late and then I got scolded several times for not paying attention. How could I pay attention to all this boring theory, when only last night I fell in love and made love for the first time? I just sat there with a big stupid grin on my face, while the others were whispering behind me about my absent behaviour and different hairstyle. I don't care what they think, as long as they don't know the truth. We could get in serious trouble for this. Eventually I got kicked out of class for my lack of attention. I have to do an extra assignment because of it, bah. Oh well. All I could do today was daydream of my beloved and the experience we shared.

Daniela and I are sitting on the steps leading to the Senior Mage Quarters. "So, tell me, what happened between you two?" Her eyes sparkle and I can tell she's very curious.

"Obviously I cannot tell you everything. But suffice it to say that I feel very, very content." I sigh and smile. Last night's events are playing through my mind.

"That's all I need to know. I like your hair, by the way. Do you plan on keeping it like this?" She sounds a bit triumphant. It's not like I did it for her.

"Maybe, I don't know. It's just an experiment." It's not as troublesome as I thought it would be. Perhaps I will wear my hair like this more often. It's not like I am ever in battle or anything. Suddenly heavy footsteps sound and lo and behold, none other than Cullen comes stomping by. He halts as soon as he sees us. Maker's breath, I'm turning red again.

"Hello Cullen," Danny says in a sweet voice.

He nods politely. "Ladies. I was just looking for you," he addresses me. "First Enchanter Irving has requested me to bring you to him." I have to admire how stoic he can be. Just last night we were all over one another.

"All right. I'll see you later, Danny." We wave to each other (she winks at me conspicuously) and I follow Cullen to see the First Enchanter. The halls are abandoned; everyone seems to be occupied elsewhere. I pick up my pace to walk beside him.

My templar lays his arms around my shoulders. "I, uhm… Last night was really nice."

"It certainly was. I hope you were in time for the changing of the guard. You didn't get in any trouble, did you, dear?" I slip my arm around his waist and take bigger steps to walk in stride with him.

"No, no trouble. You were really fast asleep and I couldn't just leave you there, so I carried you back to your bed. Thankfully all the others were sleeping as well." I stand on my toes to give him a peck on the cheek and he smiles.

"How very chivalrous of you. May I keep your shirt?" I can already see myself spending every night sniffing that thing until I fall asleep.

"If you wish. Then may I keep your, uhm, undergarments?" A pink flush spreads across his cheeks. How cute he is.

"Ah, so that's where they went. Of course you may keep them."

Cullen looks around suspiciously and before I know it, my back is against a wall and he is pressed against my front. The butterflies begin fluttering about in my stomach. "Surely we still have a few minutes to spare." His voice is hoarse again. I can feel my knees getting weak. Maker's mercy, I just cannot resist him.

"What do you suggest we do in these few minutes?" As if I don't know. I hike my skirt up to my waist. Cullen makes no reply, but smiles wickedly instead and leans closer to me. Our lips meet once again and I can hardly wait to slip my tongue into his mouth. Soon he pulls down my panties and I feel the tip of his member between my wet lips. How did he get it out so quickly? I wriggle my lower body until my panties are bunched on the floor.

He lifts me to his level and props up my back against the wall. With his hands under my knees he keeps my legs open. Carefully he enters me. Again this wonderful feeling of being stretched out by pure pleasure. This time he doesn't go about it so slowly and before long he is fully in me. It is as if he fills every fibre of my being and not just my… well, you know. The v-word. His thrusts are short and intense, giving me goose bumps. I throw back my head and try to stifle a moan.

I hear a thud as my head hits the wall, but I feel nothing. All that exist now are my most intimate area and his absolutely thrilling member, sending me further into bliss with every thrust. My fingers go to where we are joined together and quickly find my button. I stroke myself while he continues pushing in and pulling out of me. Tension builds in my pulsating bump quickly, but only when I hear him bite back a groan and feel him throbbing do I let go.

I tightly wrap my free arm around his shoulders as the tidal wave of my orgasm comes over me and press my face against his neck. I bite my lip to keep quiet. Somewhere I hear his soft moans in my ear, feel his metal-clad body against mine. Slowly the pleasure recedes and I feel him shrinking inside of me. Suddenly I become aware of the fact that I'm very hot.

"Oh my." I fiercely fan my face with both hands. Hot, hot, hot! Cullen laughs at me and carefully sets me down before kissing me. I simply must hug him. "I'm so very lucky to have you," I whisper to him. Maker, I just love him so much.

"And I to have you. Now come, we should get to Irving." He's tucked his equipment back to where it belongs and smoothes the skirt part of his armour down.

"Don't you have to wear armour under there too?" Funny how these men wear skirts.

"Well yes, but sometimes I just leave it behind. This is more comfortable and not a soul can see what I wear under here anyway."

I bend down and put my panties back on. They're soaking wet in no time with all that semen flowing out of me. Something should be done about that.

"Do you have any idea what Irving wants with me?" I hope it's not about my behaviour in class today.

"It concerns your Harrowing. I suppose he thinks you're ready to be tested."

I gasp and clap my hands. "If I do this right, I get to move to the nicer quarters upstairs! Finally, more privacy."

"And if you don't, you die." He sounds sad. Why must people always assume the worst?

"Yes, well, let's not think about that, shall we?" I show him an encouraging smile. "Let's go."

We spend a few moments in a warm embrace before we continue on our way.

~*|'-'|*~

The First Enchanter told me three days ago my Harrowing was to take place in a week, so four more days to go. He expressed great faith in my abilities and that I should have no trouble taking this test. Well, at least he's confident enough for the both of us. I have no idea what this Harrowing actually is, except that I die if I do it wrong. Others who have taken it are obliged to keep their mouths shut. It must be a harrowing experience, ha-ha. There's no use getting nervous about it already. I can get to that when the time comes.

I am looking forward to moving to the nicer quarters, however. This one time I snuck up there and snooped about. There are fewer people to a room there, you know. And they have their own closet, their own vanity too. More than enough space for me, Mister Muffin and all of my stuff.

Cullen's on guard duty again at our quarters tonight. I can't wait. Ever since that first night we spent together, my body has been aching for more. I think of him every waking moment, and when I sleep, I dream of him. It's maddening, but in a good way.


	6. The Circle - How About a Preview?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another tryst in the dark.

### The Circle - How About a Preview?

"I just keep thinking this is wrong." Cullen speaks in hushed tones as we make our way to the library again. So he's having second thoughts about us.

"It _is_ wrong." I take his hands in mine and get him to stop walking. "It's wrong that we are not allowed to be together. It's wrong that we must sneak about in the middle of the night, as if we are common criminals." It may sound a bit trite, but I really feel this way. We are meant to be together, mage and templar or not. I just can't imagine being with anyone else. I stare into my beloved's beautiful eyes. I hope he can tell how much I love him, I hope he knows.

He sighs and shows me a sad smile. "Yes, you're right." He kisses my hand. "I'm sorry. You're amazing and I should be glad to have you, instead of whine like this."

"No, I understand. You were raised to control my kind so naturally you would think this is wrong. Still, you fell in love with me. Don't you think the Maker put us on this path for a reason?" I stand on my toes and pucker up my lips for a kiss. His eyes narrow when he laughs at the expression on my face. I must look really silly. But he bends down and presses his lips to mine anyway.

"You're so cute," he tells me with a bright smile. Well, I guess he would know cute.

"Heh, look who's talking!" I pinch his cheek a little. "So would you rather return, or...?" Please don't leave me. I need you.

Suddenly he wraps his arms around my waist and pushes his body up against mine. I can feel the hardness between his legs pressing against my stomach. "No, I would certainly rather not return." That naughty grin that curves his lips makes me all tingly. "As I'm sure you can feel." His hands go lower and cup my behind, squeezing me firmly. My panties are getting soaking wet. "But let's wait until we can properly lie down." Cullen grabs me by the arm.

"Hold on a moment." I kneel before him. He looks down on me with crimson cheeks. "Let me give you a little... preview of what's to come, if you will." I look up at him, biting my lip. His shyness only serves to excite me more. Slowly I unlace his pants, revealing his erection. A clear drop has formed at the top; I lick it away. This stuff is salty. He moans as I lick him up and down. I just love pleasing him. You know, it just occurred to me that I have never paid any attention to his testicles. This should be remedied. I gently cup his testicles in my right hand. What should I do with them? They seem somewhat delicate. I squeeze them as softly as I possibly can.

"Mmm, that's nice." His voice is thick with lust. I must be doing it right. My left hand still busies itself with his member, firmly massaging the length of his shaft. His skin feels velvety soft. I close my mouth around the tip. Currently I am doing three things: sucking the tip, stroking the shaft and gently massaging his balls. The third thing especially requires focus, since they seem to be so sensitive. I hardly had to touch them to make him moan in pleasure. If my hand can make him moan, maybe my mouth can make him scream.

I move my lips down his shaft, a row of kisses down the middle. Teasingly I touch my tongue to his testicles. I hear him draw in a sharp breath. Very good. I try to suck both of them into my mouth and his legs begin shaking. Hmm, they don't quite fit into my mouth together. Ah well. Instead I alternate sucking on each of them. He must have his hand in front of his mouth because his sounds are muffled. He throbs in my hand, telling me he is close to orgasm. My hand takes over for my mouth and I once again wrap my lips around the tip of his wonderful member. Soon he _explodes_ on my tongue, squirting long strands of his warm semen into my mouth. It is still bitter, but I'm beginning to like it. I mean, I like black coffee and that's bitter too. Maybe I should take up drinking this. I wonder how many ejaculations it takes to fill a cup.

"Ah, Astoreth, you spoil me," he says affectionately. I swallow his seed and lick my lips. Yes, I could get used to this.

"You deserve it. An amazing person like you deserves to be pampered all the time." I close his pants for him and get back on my feet. He embraces me and buries his face in my hair.

"So do you, sweetheart, so do you," he says. I can hear him smell me. I'm glad I washed my hair today.

"Well, you can get to that later. I'm ready for more, aren't you?" I wink at him.

"Oh yes." He sounds eager. Holding hands we rush to the library.


	7. The Circle - A Crowded Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tryst continues.

### The Circle - A Crowded Place

"Wait, do you hear that?" I whisper. Faint sounds are coming from the corner we were headed to. I creep over to the source of the sounds, poking my head around the book case. Oh my. There are two naked mages here fooling around. I don't know either of them. Maker's breath, how many people use this place for their business? I think we should find another.

I turn around and beckon Cullen to come over. He is surprisingly silent for a guy in a metal suit. His face goes beetroot as soon as he sees what the couple are doing. "How many people come here?" he hisses into my ear.

I shrug. "We will find another place, I promise." The two mages are too much into what they are doing to notice our presence, let alone hear anything we say. I am fascinated. They are in a position we haven't tried yet. The woman is on top, grinding herself against the man. Her breasts are jiggling with every move she makes. The man isn't really doing anything, just moaning and letting the woman take control. I like being in control. We should do this. I turn around, undoing the hooks on my robes. "What do you say we find ourselves a quiet spot and..." I don't even get the chance to finish talking.

He covers my mouth with his hand and begins hiking up my skirt. His eyes are fixed upon the couple behind the book case. He turns me around and unceremoniously penetrates me. It's a good thing he has his hand over my mouth so he can muffle my cries. Wow, I didn't think he had it in him. But I do have him in me now, ha-ha.

Maker, he feels so good. And then he begins thrusting in me with all his might and I just lose it. I buck my hips in his direction, moving in sync with him. His free hand grabs a hold of my breast and squeezes it hard. I don't care; all I want is for him to keep on doing me. I scream and moan into his hand. He's grunting in my ear like an animal, sinks his teeth into my shoulder. Very, very sexy. Sadly it's over all too soon. He ejaculates into me in mere minutes and bites down deeper into my shoulder. It hurts; I'm sure he's drawn blood.

The others have finished as well, it seems. They quickly get dressed. "Thanks. It was good. Tell me when you want to go again," the woman says. Her voice sounds rather cold.

"No, thank _you_. I certainly will. Take care," the man replies in much the same manner. That sounded a lot like some kind of business transaction. So this is how the others fulfil their… physical needs. They just hook up and do it. We quickly take cover as the both of them go their separate ways, after a friendly handshake. Thankfully they didn't spot us. As soon as their footsteps are no longer audible, Cullen rushes to inspect my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry! Are you all right?" He fusses over me as if I'm a child. I like it. "You're bleeding." The pitiful tone of his voice makes me melt. I couldn't be angry with him even if I wanted to. He licks the bite mark on my shoulder; it stings like crazy.

"Ow! Would you stop that?" It hurts worse than when he bit me.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. And I wasn't very gentle with you before, when…" He clears his throat and blushes. "I don't know what came over me when I saw them…" This time he coughs. Heh, it's cute how he can't just come out and say it.

"It's all right, my darling." I hug him and he relaxes visibly. "I'm not angry with you in any way. How could I be?" I kiss the tip of his nose.

"I imagine it would be easy, with the way I treated you earlier. But I will make it up to you." With that he picks me up, gets me over to the pillows and lays me down. I would like to say there is no need, but he just looks so determined. And of course I can always use a little extra love, if you get my meaning. He undresses me lovingly and neatly folds my clothes before laying them to the side. I shiver in the cold. I don't even have my stockings on anymore. Quickly he takes off his breastplate and shirt to cover my body with his. Ah, he is so warm and soft. And minty. If only Mister Muffin were like this. But then I would probably end up having crazy hot sex with a stuffed toy and that is taking it a bit too far.

"Can we stay like this for a while? I really enjoy just holding you." I sigh and wrap my legs around him.

"Whatever you want, love. I'm here to please you." He sounds surprised. Come on now, it's not like I want to spend all of our time together doing it. Or well, maybe I do.

"Don't you think we should get to know each other a little better? So far the only thing I know about you is that you're an amazing lover, but it pretty much ends there. Please, tell me more about yourself." I really would like to know him. There must be an interesting background to my templar.

His handsome face pulls into a sour expression. "That's quite impossible."

"Why? Is it some big secret?" I chuckle. Maybe he is some kind of genetic experiment. An experiment of how to create the perfect man. I'd say they succeeded.

Cullen grimaces. "No, it's just that I don't know. I was given to the Chantry as a baby; maybe I was an orphan, maybe an unwanted child. Ever since I can remember I was in a convent and eventually trained to be a templar." I can tell from the way he is frowning that he's not very comfortable with the subject.

"We have a lot in common then. I have no idea where I'm from either; all I have from my past are this necklace and my bear. Irving told me that they found me before the tower, wailing and shrieking. There was a note pinned to my dress. It had my name and birth date on it and basically said I had magical talents and they should take care of me. Nothing else." Even after all this time I cannot imagine how anyone can just give their child away like that. "Birds of a feather, we are."

"I am glad to hear it," my love tells me with a sweet, sweet kiss. "And I am glad to have you."

My mouth stretches into a grin I imagine looks nothing short of stupid. He just gives me this warm feeling inside, you know? Even without opening his mouth he does. And then he goes and says something sweet like this and well, my common sense just flies out the window.

"Don't you ever wonder about where you came from?" He carefully takes my pendant between his fingers and inspects it.

"Of course I do. So do you, I bet. But it doesn't matter anyway. I cannot leave this place." I bury my face in his neck and inhale deeply. His scent fills my nose.

"Do you want to? I mean, do you like it here?" He mimics me and begins sniffing me as well. The hair on his face tickles, making me giggle.

"I like it here well enough, especially now that I have you." He smiles at me upon hearing this. "But I would like to leave sometime, you know. Not permanently. Just to see what's out there."

"Next time I get outside, I will bring you something." Ooh, presents. I never get presents. "Sometimes I think we are too hard on you," he continues. "It's just the maleficarum giving all of you a bad name, I think." Sounds like he's been giving it a lot of thought.

"I like how you give us mage folk that much credit. I for one am glad you are here to keep an eye on us." And of course to provide me with someone I can spend some quality time with.

"You mean you are glad for the templars, or just for me?" He makes it sound light-hearted, but somehow I know my answer is important.

"What do you think?" I wiggle my eyebrows at him and softly kiss his lips. Of course this turns into passionate kissing with lots of groping. I love groping. I love being groped. "I meant that I'm glad _you_ are here with me," I tell him in between kisses. His body is so warm and smooth under my hands, nothing but firm muscle and soft skin. "I love you, my sweet."

"I love you too," he pants into my ear. Before I know it, he is deep inside me. I hadn't even noticed him taking his pants off. I dig my nails into his back and hear him gasp. This is very nice, but I would like to do something else. Something new. I tightly wrap my legs around his midsection and roll us over. I sit up straight and find him staring up at me in surprise.

"What are you doing?" My sweetheart is wide-eyed with curiosity. I should praise the Maker we found each other.

"Just trying something different, dear." I wiggle my hips. He moans.

Cullen chuckles and rests his hands on my hips. "Feeling inspired, are we?"

"Yes indeed." I'm not really sure what to do now though. So what was that woman doing again? Right. I place my hands on his chest to steady myself and move up to let him slip out of me halfway, then quickly push him all the way back in coming down. Oh, this feels so good. This way he gets even deeper than he usually does. I can tell he enjoys it too from the way his eyes are rolled back. A low growling noise comes from deep within his throat. Mmm, it sends chills down my spine. "You... are sooo..." The amazing feeling I get from riding him prevents me from speaking. I'm trying very hard not to scream out.

"I'm sooo what?" he moans. His hands are on my breasts, squeezing them, tweaking at my nipples. My entire body is one great big mass of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"So... so..." I'm really having a hard time focusing on what I want to say. "Sexy," I finally choke out. That's it, I'm done talking. I pick up my pace, grinding my hips against his harder and faster. It feels so nice I almost pass out. Soon I feel him expanding within me, filling me up even further. His member throbs violently and his face takes on the same immensely beautiful expression I have observed before. I stare at him in fascination as he climaxes, softly moaning. My body moves on its own, going slower and slower as his throbbing lessens. I bend down to kiss him and he smiles at me, takes me in his arms.

"So, uhm, you think I'm… sexy?" His voice is shy. Maybe he's never seen himself. But then how would he shave, right?

"Of course." I lie down next to him, stroking his stomach. "I mean, look at you."

"I see nothing special. All the others have pretty much the same build." How can he look at that fine body and not realize how fine it is? Modesty must be bred into them too.

"Really? Well anyway, believe me when I say you are _extremely_ attractive." I kiss his cheek, his neck, his chest and lower. I just cannot resist him. "Oh, and your face..." I briefly stare at him in admiration. "You are by far the handsomest man I've ever seen." Can't let that be left unsaid. It's the truth, after all. I leave a trail of kisses down his stomach. His scent is everywhere around me. I could just spend days revelling in it, but right now I have my eye on something to play with.


	8. The Circle - An Oral Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen has something to be very sorry about and knows just how to show it.

### The Circle - An Oral Apology

In its current limp state his member looks a bit like a large worm. It's kind of squishy as well. I take it into my hand and run my tongue along its length. Heh, at least now I can suck it in completely. But soon he grows in my mouth and I can no longer contain him fully. I swirl my tongue around the tip, suck on it, take him into my mouth as far as I can, stroke the shaft with my hand.

I really enjoy doing this, especially when I notice how much he likes it. His hand is on the back of my head, directing my speed. From time to time he draws in a sharp breath and tells me I'm doing well. Or I suppose I'm doing well, seeing how all he says is "yes" and "ooh" and likewise monosyllables. Suddenly he grabs me and flings me unto the pillows. He places his hands under my knees and raises them over his shoulders before entering me. This is new too. I'm wide open and he comes deeper into me than ever before. All I can do is let all this pleasure come over me and bite my knuckles to suppress my moaning. I swear, if I don't try to keep quiet I will wake up everyone with my screaming.

He's thrusting in me so hard it hurts a little, but the pleasure is so great I hardly notice any pain. This is so different from the first time, when he was gentle and loving. Ah well, it's what you get from telling a man you're tough as nails. And it's not like I'm not enjoying this. "Oh my, you're such an animal." My voice comes out in short gasps. I run my fingers through his hair.

He slows down. "Are... aren't you enjoying this?" He's out of breath, his voice discouraged.

"I'm enjoying it just fine, lover." I simultaneously sink my teeth into his ear and furrow my nails down his back. This apparently lights a fire in him as he growls and begins pounding me harder and faster than he's ever done. I take a deep breath to shriek, but he sticks his tongue into my mouth and kisses me hungrily. Any scream I wanted to utter disappears and all I can do is whimper, helpless. He's hurting me. And yet, I still like what he's doing. It hurts, but it feels so good as well. My mind is going a bit fuzzy. I feel as if I'm on fire, red hot. Suddenly his mouth is gone from me and he throws his head back, moaning. Looking up at Cullen, I see his face is red, sweat pouring off his brow, eyes closed. He's just so incredibly sexy, beautiful, I don't know. I can only stare at him as he takes his pleasure of me. Low groans come from between his slightly parted lips. I am mesmerised by what I see above me, study every detail of his face. How old would he be? I've never asked.

His eyes fly open abruptly; I feel him begin throbbing inside me and so I know he's nearly there. He lets go with a great roar, burying himself painfully deep into me. I cringe and bite back a whimper. All the pleasure has gone from my body; all that remains is pain. My vision becomes blurry with tears, I can't help it. This just... Ouch. "Oh no. I've hurt you, haven't I?" His voice is startled. Gently he pulls out of me and I feel his seed trickling out of me. Even that stings. Then he wraps his arms around me and I take a deep breath to steady myself. It's not so bad; after all, it's only pain. I'm not dying or anything.

"It's all right, I'll be fine. Don't worry." Gah, am I sore right now. I pat him on the shoulder.

"You look like you're in pain, love." He looks concerned and guilty, tenderly caresses my face.

"Uhm well, yes I am. Very astute." I've just been pounded within an inch of my life. Of course I'm in pain.

"I'm sorry." He sniffles. Poor thing. I should try to hide my feelings better. He's so sensitive. "But I'll make it up you." A seductive promise, whispered into my ear. It sends a tingle down my spine.

"Truly?" I raise an eyebrow and giggle. "Do your worst."

Cullen chuckles at me, such a charming sound. "I will." He gives me a tremendously tender kiss and then nibbles my earlobe a bit before driving me crazy with nipping at my neck. Boy, he really knows what he's doing. His hands are travelling all over my body, stroking my sides, cupping my breasts and rolling my nipples between his fingers. The pain I was feeling fades away. Amazing.

And when he closes his lips around my nipple, oh wow, my mind turns all fuzzy again. Everything goes black before my eyes. I think they're rolled back into my head. Maybe if I try hard enough, I can see my brain. His tongue is soft and wet on my skin, his hands a bit calloused but tender. In his touch I feel that he loves me, that he cares for me. My other nipple gets treated the same way, licked, sucked, nibbled. My button begins throbbing, begging for him to curl his tongue around it.

I pet his soft, soft hair before gently nudging him to go lower. He chuckles and quickens his descent, covering my tummy with little kisses. He pauses before touching me between the legs. I could just about scream with frustration. That dirty tease! And then he gently blows across my nether lips and my back lifts off the ground in an arch. He _really_ knows what he's doing. Has he been practising or something? He dips his tongue between my lips. "Blech!" He makes a gagging sound. "This is disgusting!" Excuse me? Disgusting?

I prop myself up on my elbows and glare at him. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"No, I meant _I'm_ disgusting. How can you... Yuck!" His face looks utterly disgusted. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You know, my dear, I happen to like it. The first time I tasted it I pretty much thought the same. But now..." To make my point I rub my fingers between my lips, coating them in his semen, and ostentatiously lick them clean.

He stares at me wide-eyed and swallows. I can see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "And you call me sexy." His voice sounds reverent and approving. I like compliments, even if they're only implied.

"Certainly. Are you going to act like it?" I reach out my hand to him and pat his head. This makes him smile happily. He's such a good boy.

"Yes ma'am!" he says with determination. Next I feel his fingers enter me slowly, probing me. It's nowhere near as nice as having his member in there, but combined with his tongue swiftly licking my button, it's enough to make me lose my mind.

I softly moan his name. "You're so good." I'm practically purring with delight. Cullen says nothing, apparently too concentrated on his task. First, every muscle in my legs tenses. Then my button begins... itching, almost. It's not exactly the same, but it's close. And finally a small eruption of pleasure, just where my button is. The feeling increases in strength and heats my skin. It almost feels as if I'm exploding, in a good, no-guts-flying-about-the-place kind of way. I can't help it; again I close my legs around his head. It's not like I want to choke him, it just kind of happens. But luckily I once again have control over my legs when my climax dies down a little. All this time I've been holding in my breath, so now I'm gasping and wheezing as if I've just run a mile at top speed.


	9. The Circle - The Power of Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroine and her lover get talking about the past.

### The Circle - The Power of Candy

"I take it I've done well?" He sounds amused, as well as slightly out of breath. His fingers deep within me are withdrawn. I miss them already.

"That… is an understatement." My breath comes out in long, heavy sighs. The only time I felt more satisfied than this was after my first Cullen-induced orgasm. Ah, wonderful.

"I'm glad you liked it." He lies down next to me and takes me into his arms. I feel secure like this, cradled in his strong arms. This is my happy place. "Are you still in pain?" His hands caress my back. There is still worry in his voice. No need for that.

"No. Are you sure you're not a mage? Because it seems to me you have magic in your touch."

"Quite sure." Suddenly he sounds sad. But… I was only kidding! "Lately I've been wishing I were, because then I would be free to be with you." He clutches me tightly to his chest. So tightly I can hardly breathe.

"I'm sorry it has to be like this. If you're not all right with it, then maybe…" However much I love him, making him miserable isn't worth it. Perhaps this ill-advised affair wasn't such a good idea after all. And to think, I was only looking to get some between-the-sheets action. But now…

"Don't say such things," he interrupts my thoughts. "I love you, and I don't want to be apart from you." Oh, that's good. It's suddenly like a heavy weight has been lifted from my heart.

"I am glad to hear that. Still, if you ever think we should end this, tell me. Immediately, all right?" I owe him at least an escape option. You know what they say… If you love someone, set them free, or something along those lines.

"All right, although I strongly doubt that will ever happen. It's just that you deserve more than only secret meetings in the dark and pretending we hardly know one another when others are around." I've noticed that whenever he's on a roll speaking about something, he raises his voice and gestures busily with his hands. He's doing it right now, actually. At least I can breathe normally. "I would like to take you places, maybe Denerim. Buy you things, just… Well, treat you like the treasure that you are." He sighs and stares at me in what looks like adoration. Heh, it would seem I turn him into a fawning fool as much as he does me.

I fondly stroke his cheek and smile at him. "I would like that. You know, maybe someday things will be different. Maybe someday we will be free to consort with each other, mage and templar. Sounds good, doesn't it?" Too good to be true. I doubt it will ever happen. Maybe I can take this up with our king. Heh, yeah right.

"So it does. Ah, let's not think about this anymore." Once again he wraps his arms around me and tenderly kisses me. My heart goes all aflutter.

"Tell me, how old are you?" Now's as good a time as any to ask. The subject needed changing anyway.

"Hm? Oh, I'm twenty-five. You?"

I chuckle under my breath. Time for a little joke. "I'm fourteen."

He goes rigid against me. "What?" he says slowly. I burst out laughing. It's too difficult to stay serious.

"I was just kidding. I'm twenty." Give or take a few years. My body is still shaking with laughter. Oh, I had him there.

He blows out a deep breath. "Maker! Would you stop scaring me like that? I was beginning to think I'd been ravishing a child these past few days."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I wipe away my tears and pat his head. "I hope you can forgive me."

"I might, if you would turn around for me." His voice sounds deliciously naughty again, so I immediately turn my back to him. I wonder what it is he wants to do. When I feel the tip of his member between my lips, I know. Slowly he pushes himself into me again. This is what, the third time tonight? That boy is like a thoroughbred horse. I hear they are renowned for their stamina. Being stretched out still hurts a little, but Maker's mercy, does it feel good. He cups my breasts and pulls my upper body closer to his. "I forgive you," he whispers into my ear. His skin feels hot against mine.

My mind isn't as cloudy, because this time, he's going about it more slowly and carefully. It's different, more intimate, something like that. You know, I think I might even be able to talk. "So." I clear my throat. "When did you begin liking me?"

"Heh. You're probably going to find it very silly, but it all started when you tried to give me candy. Do you remember?" I can hear a smile in his voice.

"Why yes, I was just thinking about it the other day. Hah, I never would've thought sweets could have that kind of effect on a person."

"It was because of you, silly, not the sweets. Imagine, I was standing guard dutifully and this pretty girl approaches me, innocently asking me if I would like some candy." He gives me a little kiss below the ear. "I got lost in those beautiful eyes of yours. My knees became weak, and all day I could only think of you. That hasn't changed since." I squeal. That is just too adorable. This handsome templar looked bored then, so I thought I'd distract him. My mouth is stretching into that moronic grin again, I can just feel it. This time he can't see it though, so I'm safe. "I love you," he mutters into my ear. His thrusts become more rapid, his hands on my breasts more demanding. He's kneading them quite firmly.

"I love you too." I'm not sure if that came out right, with me being able to only moan. Ah, who cares? Right now all that matters is my darling sending me into bliss. This must be the best feeling ever.

"I'm coming," he grunts into my ear. …What does that mean?

"Coming, where?" I must sound really stupid.

He begins laughing. It sounds strange, because his laughter is mixed with various moans and grunts. Does it mean he's experiencing an orgasm? I can feel him throbbing inside me. "You don't know what that means, do you?" he asks, still amused. His member is shrinking, his hands aren't kneading me like a lump of dough anymore.

I shrug. "I guess I do now. It means that you're climaxing, am I right?" A new word in my vocabulary. That could always come in handy.

"Yes, that's it. Smart girl." He pats my head approvingly. This gives me a warm feeling too. I've always been a sucker for praise. "We should get back soon. My duty's almost over." His voice sounds regretful. I wish we had more time too. Then again, beggars can't be choosers. We are lucky enough to have each other. I am lucky enough he can set his conscience aside enough to be with me.

"Yes, I suppose. Give me one more of your lovely big hugs and a kiss and then we'll go." I turn around to face him and wrap my arms around him. Our lips meet for a kiss that seems to last very, very long. After that we quickly get dressed and I sneak back to my bed. I soon begin falling asleep with Mister Muffin cradled to my chest, feeling immensely happy and satisfied.


	10. The Circle - A Friend in Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the Harrowing.

### The Circle - A Friend in Need

It's time for my Harrowing. I've been lonely these past few days, with my beloved absent. Cullen's been away for a couple days. I was looking for him, but I could hardly ask anyone where he was, now could I? Not even Daniela knew where he had gone. But at least he's here now, in the Harrowing chamber. With a truly enormous sword at his back. He looks very glum. I wish I could hug him and ask him what troubles him, but I cannot. The First Enchanter is here, even Knight-Commander Greagoir is present. I had no idea this was such a big happening. I understand I am to go into the Fade for my final test. This should be interesting. I am very, very nervous.

~*|'-'|*~

I'm lying on something soft. A familiar place. A bed? Yes, my bed.

"Are you all right? Say something, please." A male voice. Sort of; kind of high-pitched. I know that voice. Hmm, my mind isn't doing too well at the moment. I open my eyes and see a familiar face. Oh yes, now I know. "Jowan?" What would he want from me? I get up and sit on the edge of my bed.

"I'm glad you're all right. They carried you in this morning. I didn't even realize you'd been gone all night." Hah, there's more he doesn't realize. "I've heard about apprentices who never come back from Harrowings. Is it really that dangerous? What was it like?" He sounds very eager to know. So that's it. He wants information. I don't want to talk about it overmuch. They don't call it a Harrowing for nothing.

"It was... harrowing." Bah, I don't even want to think about it anymore.

"Is that why they don't tell us what it's about?" My friend wrings his hands. Apparently he is worried about something. "I know I'm not supposed to know... but we're friends. Just a little hint, and I'll stop asking, I promise!" I was instructed not to tell anyone about this, but obviously I'm not one for strictly adhering to rules.

"I had to enter the Fade." Stupid demons. Stupid Mouse. Stupid templar spirit. I hope I will never have to go through that nonsense again. Come now, I'm not even that powerful. What dumb kind of demon would want to possess me?

"Really? That's it?" Jowan sounds disappointed. Of course that's not it. We enter the Fade whenever we dream; technically it's not all that special.

"No. If a demon possesses you, you get killed."

He shrugs. "That... makes sense. They want to see if you can resist a demon and stop yourself from becoming an abomination." A dramatic gesture follows, throwing his hands into the air before folding them before his chest. I can see he's upset, but it still looks quite funny. "And now you get to move to the nice mages' quarters upstairs. I'm stuck here and I don't know when they'll call me for _my_ Harrowing." So that's his problem.

"Don't worry about it, Jowan." I don't worry about stuff like this overmuch. You get called whenever the people upstairs think you are ready.

He glares at me, arms still folded across his chest. "Easy for you to say. I've been here longer than you have... Sometimes I think they just don't want to test me."

"Why wouldn't they?" Honestly I'm not really paying attention. I can't wait to go and see my new room.

"The Tranquil never go through a Harrowing." This is serious. Tranquil scare the living daylights out of me. Those empty eyes, ieh.

"And you're afraid you will be made Tranquil. Why?" I have heard rumours of Jowan maybe being a blood mage. But I asked him whether or not these rumours were true and he vehemently denied. I believe him. We are friends, surely he would tell me the truth. Then again, I've never told him of me and Cullen. Maybe I will at some point.

"Apprentices can ask to be made Tranquil if they fear the Harrowing. But the Circle also forces Tranquillity on those they feel are weak." He hops from one foot to the other and fidgets about. It's cute, kind of reminds me of Cullen when he's nervous. "And sometimes they force it on apprentices they think might be too... dangerous as mages."

"So it has to do with the rumours about you. I will ask you again: are they true?" Not that I don't believe him, but groundless rumours die quite quickly, unlike these.

Again he glares at me. "No, they are not!" Fine then. Suddenly the look in his eyes softens. "You look different."

"Different, how?" I wonder what he means. Today I even have my hair up in my regular style, robes neatly closed from my ankles to my neck. Just good old Astoreth.

"You look happy, radiant even. Lately you've been all smiles, hair down, red spots on your neck..." He looks at me triumphantly. "You've found someone!"

My face feels all warm. I must be blushing fiercely. "I uhm, well..." Damn it, he's on to me.

"That's all right, I don't need to know who it is." He laughs and smacks my shoulder, sends me flying forward. There's more strength in those arms than would seem at first glance. "Sorry. Anyway, I shouldn't waste your time with this. I was supposed to tell you to see Irving as soon as you woke up." Now he pats my back. "You'd better not keep him waiting. We can speak later." And with that he waves and leaves.

Off to Irving then.


	11. The Circle - Love My New Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth finally gets to move into the nicer quarters upstairs.

### The Circle - Love My New Room

Hooray, I'm a real mage now! I don't like my new robes though. There are many colours I like. Yellow isn't one of them. Guess what colour these robes are? Ah well.

When I got to the First Enchanter's study, he and Greagoir were bickering about sending mages to some battlefield. They had a guest, Duncan, the leader of all Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Apparently there's an army of darkspawn gathering at Ostagar. It might even be a Blight, just like four centuries ago. I had the feeling this Duncan fellow wanted to recruit me into the Wardens, although he didn't say so specifically. The Wardens do an honourable job, but I would like to stay here if possible. If I were to go, I would have to leave Cullen behind. I do not want to do that.

It's the middle of the night. I am in my new room now, lying in bed, dressed in Cullen's fragrant shirt. Sadly it's beginning to smell more of me than of him. This bed is so much fancier and I don't have to worry about hitting my head against the top bunk. Mister Muffin has his own place on one of the pillows. Yes, that's right: multiple pillows. I do have to share with three other people; two men and another woman. The men were nice and congratulated me on passing my Harrowing. One of them told me to "get comfortable", which rather sounded as a thinly veiled invitation to get naked. I didn't accept it. Instead I began jumping on my new bed. It doesn't creak. At all. The woman is a crabby old hag. She said my success was merely luck. Even told me she hadn't expected me to survive. Bitch. I'm not very happy to be sharing a room with her. Oh well. At least I have my own vanity with a nice, large mirror. I immediately laid out all of my cosmetics there. Finally, some space of my own.

This is odd. Someone is standing next to my bed. I hear the rustle of garments falling to the floor. Then a warm naked body slips under the covers next to me. Arms around my waist, lips on my neck.

"This had better be you, love, or someone is going to be turned into a frozen dessert tonight," I quietly threaten my guest. But when I catch his scent, I know it is him. I turn around.

"Hi," Cullen whispers to me with relief in his voice. "I'm glad your Harrowing went smoothly."

"Where have you been?" I'm so glad to be able to touch him again! I kiss his cheek and run my fingers through his hair.

"I was... out on an errand." He sounds sad. This probably means he had to hunt down some apostate mage. It also explains why he looked so gloomy earlier.

"Is that why you looked all depressed at my Harrowing?" Tightly I wrap my arms around him.

"Uhm no, not really. They picked me as the templar to strike the killing blow... if you became an abomination." He sighs. Ironic that they would choose my lover, the one who makes me feel so alive, as my executioner. I have no doubts he would've done his duty. Abominations are dangerous and I know he loves me a lot, but he certainly wouldn't risk the lives of all of the occupants of the tower only to save mine.

"You know, if anyone would have to put me to death, I'd want it to be you." It sounds crazy, but I mean it. He holds my heart, might as well let him take my life.

He must be staring at me in disbelief. I can hear it in his voice. "Really?"

"Hey, let's not talk about this anymore. I wasn't possessed and you didn't have to kill me." I show him the sweetest smile I can conjure, although he probably cannot see it. "I've missed you a lot."

"I've missed you too. I brought you something." There's a smile in his voice now. I prefer to see (or in this case hear) him happy.

"A gift? Really?" I let go of him and clap my hands together in glee.

"Yes. Give me your hand." He takes my right hand in his left. Exciting! "Hmm, I hope it fits," he mumbles. Something slips around my ring finger, a small, delicate object. If only I could see in the dark. I scramble to light the oil lamp next to my bed and take a look at my gift.

Words fail me. This ring he's given me is beautiful. An elegant silver band consisting of three interwoven vines, sprinkled with little garnets. It fits perfectly. "I... Wow. This..." I can only open and close my mouth without any words coming out. I've never had a present this lovely.

My beloved's eyes narrow as he smiles at me. "So you like it? I'm glad."

I stare at his handsome face, illuminated by a warm glow. "Like it? I _love_ it!" I fiercely throw my arms around him and begin showering him with kisses and thank yous. These few days without him have been terrible. "Oh, but I have no gift for you." I let him go and hang my head in shame. There's not much I can buy in here. Unless... "Perhaps you would do me the honour of wearing this?" I remove my necklace and present it to him.

"No, I couldn't. Isn't it the only thing you have left of your past?" He waves his hand in a declining gesture.

"It's not. And besides, I don't know whom it belonged to. You know it was mine. And when you wear it, I hope you will think of me often." Protests or no, I hang it around his neck anyway. Astoreth Amell does not take no for an answer.

"I... well, if you put it like that. Thank you. I appreciate it." He smiles and softly kisses me. How I've missed those lips. Suddenly he lets go of me and chuckles. "Who might this be?" he asks me, Mister Muffin in his hand.

"I uhm, that's my bear. I've always had him." I can't help but blush. Hopefully he doesn't find me childish.

"So what's his name?" Cullen looks at my bear's button eyes and pets his worn-out head. How adorable!

"It's... Mister Muffin." I named him when I was five. Back then I was really fond of muffins, which still shows around my waist even now.

"Aw, that's so cute. It suits him." He returns my bear to his old place on my pillow and folds me into his embrace. "I could only think of you while I was away. I'm sorry I couldn't let you know I would be gone."

"It's fine. You're here now. Why don't we make up for lost time?" Without further ado I press my lips to his and slip my tongue into his mouth. Finally, I've wanted to do this for days. Cullen doesn't want to waste time either it seems. His hands are all over me, caressing every inch of skin they can find. Not that my arms are resting idly at my sides. I like how he got undressed before he climbed into bed with me. My hands glide down his back and give his bum a squeeze. Mmm, buns of steel, oh yes!

I detach my mouth from his and bite my lip when his fingers enter me. There are still three other people in this room; I'm sure the old hag would tell on me as soon as she got the chance. Slowly my lover moves his fingers in and out of me. I can't wait until he sticks something else up there. That something is resting against my belly, rock-hard and pulsating. Aw, _he missed me too_! I grip his erection at the base and stroke along its length. He draws in a sharp breath, bites back a moan. I want to feel him inside me so badly. Then he lies down on top of me, enveloping me in his warmth. His fingers have left me now. In an incredibly sexy gesture he slips them into my mouth and lets me suck them clean. It's not bad, but I still prefer to taste him on my tongue.

That's it, I can't wait any longer. I rub the tip of his member between my lips and guide him into me. Soon he takes over and slowly, slowly enters me. All is done in perfect silence, or well, almost perfect silence. There is much heavy breathing, of course. Right now, I want to scream how good he feels in me, how much I've missed him, that he should get into me a bit quicker. But I should keep quiet, lest we are caught with our pants down.

And then he is inside of me all the way. For a moment he stays still, locking eyes with me. His eyes are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen; a deep brown, framed with long, thick lashes. I could just drown in those eyes. When he smiles, they could light up an entire room.

"What are you smiling so sweetly about?" he asks me curiously.

"It's just what staring into the eyes of the most beautiful creature I've ever seen does to me," I whisper back. He smiles and his blushing cheeks become even redder. Still he doesn't realize just how beautiful he is. I caress his face. "Hey, Cullen?" Whenever we are together, I should tell him. We can never know how long our time together will last, if there will be another time.

"Yes, my love?" The way he speaks, gently strokes his fingers through my hair, the loving look in his eyes, the sweet smile curving his lips, they make me weak in the knees.

"I love you more than anything in this world." I've said it before, but now it's a bit awkward somehow. "Uhm, just thought I'd let you know."

He laughs briefly. Yes, I realize that wasn't the most romantic way of saying it. "I feel the same. I love you more than anything." He closes his eyes and bends down to kiss me. My eyes close as well when our lips touch. I am so happy right now. I mean, I have a new room with more privacy, my Harrowing is over and done with, I just got a beautiful gift and now I'm lying here in bed with my beloved, snug as a bug in a rug. I doubt it could get any better.

But as he begins moving in me, it does get better. My back arches on its own. It takes me all of my willpower not to cry out. I wrap my legs around his waist, revelling in his warmth, his smell, the pleasure he causes thrusting into me and kissing me. His rhythm is slow and steady. He just keeps on going, and going, and going… All I can do is rest my head against my pillow and try my hardest not to shout. Danny was right. This is wonderful and frustrating at the same time; feeling all this pleasure and not being able to scream it out. Meanwhile my hands are wandering all over his torso, running my fingers down his spine, caressing his shoulder blades, making a mess of his ridiculously soft hair.

His breathing is ragged against my ear; sometimes a very, very low moan escapes him. Poor thing's having a hard time too. It feels as if we've been making love for hours in this slow, steady rhythm. I'm so glad this bed is silent. Suddenly his grip on me tightens. "I'm sorry. I… I have to come," he pants into my ear.

"Don't you ever apologize for that." I smile and look into his half-closed eyes. This fascinates me every time, watching his face as he achieves orgasm. His mouth opens in a soundless scream, eyes clenched shut. I cover his face with little kisses and stroke the hair at the nape of his neck while he throbs inside me. After a while he collapses onto me. This time I don't mind feeling his weight on me though. I kind of enjoy being trapped like this, my legs still encircling his waist. A big silly grin appears on my face, wide enough to split it in two. I feel happy and supremely content to be with my beloved right now. "You are an amazing lover." I cannot say this too often. He makes me squirm under his touch every time.

"Thank you." He sounds tired, a lazy smile on his face. "May I spend the night here with you?" Aw, he sounds ready to fall asleep. How could I deny a request put like this?

"Of course, love, whatever you want." I smile at him and kiss his lips. With a happy sigh he comes to lie down next to me. I snuggle up to him, resting my head upon his chest. I can feel his slow, powerful heartbeat against my cheek. Cullen takes me in his arms and leans his head against mine. "Cullen?" I softly whisper.

"Hmmm?" From the sound of that I can tell he is well on his way to falling asleep.

It might be considered overkill, but I cannot hide my feelings. "I love you."

"I… love you… too." He speaks slowly, clearly losing focus. One more content sigh and his entire body relaxes. My darling is asleep. I look up at him and see he is still smiling, even now. Such a lovely sight, especially with everything bathed in the glow of the oil lamp. I place my right hand on his chest to look at the ring he's given me. It is such a beautiful thing. He has good taste.

Once again I stare at his handsome face. How did I get so lucky? If I were to get any happier, my heart would probably explode. I snuff out the light of the oil lamp, enfolding the room in darkness once again. Maker's breath, I just love my Cullen so much. Hopefully I can hold on to this feeling forever. I intend to cling to it for as long as I can. It's becoming more and more difficult to focus. His heartbeat in my ear… such an entrancing rhythm. His body is warm and soft, his delicious scent fills my nose. Sleepy. Comfortable. Warm. Safe. Perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends the first instalment, but there is more. Don't be afraid to leave your opinion.


	12. Interlude - Bound in Blood and Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth tries to help Jowan and Lily escape.

### Interlude - Bound in Blood and Magic

"Astoreth!" a voice hisses from a dark corner. "Over here!"

"There's no need to whisper so loudly, you know." I casually saunter over to where my friends are hiding. "The templar on duty only just passed by; it will be at least fifteen minutes before he's here again." Oh, this is so exciting! Forbidden love, a daring escape plan... It's like one of those romances for ladies. My heart is thumping with giddiness.

Jowan and Lily step from the shadows. They look a bit dishevelled. Tee-hee. "Oh, well, good," he says nervously, straightening his belt.

"I see you brought the rod of fire." Lily tries to smile, but it looks more like a grimace. She too seems as if she's only an inch away from launching herself into the ceiling from sheer nerves. "I-I hope... getting it wasn't too much trouble for you."

"Nah, no problem." All I had to do was flash a sweet smile at Senior Enchanter Sweeney, to get him to sign the request form. That far-sighted old man hardly even realized who I was, and he signed for the blasted thing anyway. Even asked me to burn a hole into the pants of a templar he doesn't care for much. For shame. "Come on, let's go. There is no time to lose."

~*|'-'|*~

Well, that is wonderful. As it turns out, the door we were supposed to be going through resists all kinds of magic. Instead, we had to burn through another door and find another way in.

"You don't seem nervous at all." Lily gives me a sidelong glance. She's fidgeting with the dark red sash around her waist, trembling visibly.

"No, I think it's awesome. Think of all the things we've seen!" I never thought I'd fight my way through halls filled with inhuman sentries. Some of them were even headless! Wow...

Sighing, Jowan rolls his eyes. "You think this is one big adventure, don't you?"

"Oh no, Astoreth, you must take this seriously," the Chantry initiate pleads. "It entails considerable risk, for you as well." I like Jowan's non-imaginary girl (I swear I thought he was just saying that to get me off his back), I do, but she's so damned serious. So what if I consider all this an adventure? It just is. Nothing can destroy my good mood. All thanks to Cullen's sweet attentions. Ah...

"Maker, you're right." My fellow mage pulls at my sleeve. "Please, I don't want you to get in trouble for me." For some reason he pulls me into a brotherly hug. I'm not complaining; I like hugs. "Go back to your room, Astoreth. I'm sure we can manage from here."

Lily lays a hand on my shoulder. "Perhaps that is for the best." It doesn't sound like she thinks me leaving them alone is a good idea, though. "Who knows what punishment they might exact on you?"

With my face smooshed against Jowan's chest, I mumble: "Don't be silly, you two." Gently I pry his arms away from me. "I don't care about getting in trouble. You're my friend and I want you to be happy with whomever you want. You deserve it." He has had a tough life so far. And now they want to take away what little happiness he has found here? Not on my watch.

~*|'-'|*~

"Wow, look at all this stuff!" His earlier trepidation forgotten, Jowan starts bouncing around the room and touching everything he can get his hands on. "I didn't know all this was here." Lily is very, very quiet. I bet she will loosen up a little when they are free.

"Stop fooling around, man." I resolutely make for the exit. "There is enough time for you to act like a tourist when you're both far, far away from here." Although I must admit, there are some interesting objects here. Especially this statue here, of some bald youth with a spear.

He coughs, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "Right, sorry." The sight of the statue stops him dead in his tracks. "There's something odd about this statue."

I don't see anything odd about it. "What's it doing here, you think?"

"How should I know?" Jowan shrugs impatiently. "It must be magical. This is a room of magical ob-..."

"Greetings," an echoing voice suddenly says.

The previously silent Chantry girl gives a frightened little squeal; her lover does almost the same and hides behind me, gasping: "Maker's breath, _did it just say something_?"

Yes. Yes, it did. The statue introduces itself as a lady (I would never have guessed that from her looks) of the ancient Tevinter empire, turned into stone because she foretold that the empire would fall. Apparently the archons didn't like fortune-tellers. Lily has finally found her voice again: "A Tevinter statue! Don't listen to it! The Tevinter lords dabbled in many forbidden arts! This is a wicked thing!"

"Wicked indeed. Is she even still alive in there?" I wonder... If one were trapped in a stone shell for eternity, one would probably not be very happy. And one would probably have to pee very badly.

"Weep not for me, child," the statue echoes. "Stone they made me and stone I am, eternal and unfeeling. And I shall endure 'til the Maker returns to light their fires again."

I raise an eyebrow. Their fires? What? "What on Thedas is that supposed to mean?"

"Ambiguous rubbish, it could mean anything." Jowan rolls his eyes, obviously unimpressed by the wicked Tevinter statue. "Watch, I can do it too." He clears his throat and says in a deep, manly voice: "The sun grows dark, but lo!" Dramatic arm gesture. "Here comes the dawn!"

"Oh, good one!" I can't help but laugh at this silliness, and smack him on the shoulder.

Lily, however, isn't amused. "Stop talking to it, please, both of you! Come on, Jowan, let's go. We still need to find your phylactery."

~*|'-'|*~

Ah, the phylacteries. Mine has already been shipped off to Denerim. Not that I would have destroyed it, mind you. I like it here now. Let's see... Oh, here we are. "Look, this is yours." I pass Jowan the elegant little bottle.

"You found my phylactery!" He snatches it from my hand. His eyes are glowing. "This... fragile vial is all that stands between me and freedom." It seems as if he is in a trance. "So easy just to be rid of it, to end its hold over me..." His grip loosens, and the phylactery shatters on the stone floor. Slivers of glass float in a small pool of blood. On the way out, the man doesn't stop thanking me. He and Lily are all smiles. I'm so happy for the both of them. Everyone should be free to be with the one they love, no matter who that might be. "Without you, we could never have-..." Jowan abruptly shuts his mouth.

The dreaded Knight-Commander is standing in front of us, accompanied by the First Enchanter and a few templars. Uh oh. The Knight-Commander looks at us with an expression of contempt on his face. Contempt, and disappointment. "An initiate, conspiring with a blood mage." Naturally he too thinks the rumours are true. They can't be.

"G-Greagoir..." Lily staggers back.

"I am disappointed, Lily." The man steps closer, looking her up and down. The poor girl shrinks under his piercing gaze. "She seems shocked, but fully in control of her own mind. Not a thrall of the blood mage, then. And you..." Now those steely eyes fix on me. "Newly a mage, and already flouting the rules of the Circle! What am I to do with you?"

Irving, who usually has nothing but praise for me, also gives us a piece of his mind. "I'm disappointed in you." He sighs deeply. "You could have told me what you knew of this plan, but didn't."

"You don't care for the mages!" my best friend yells unexpectedly. "You just bow to the Chantry's every whim!"

"Don't make this any worse, please," I mutter, poking him in the side with my elbow. "This is bad enough already."

Did I say bad? I meant awful. Greagoir simply sentences Jowan to death, and Lily to be taken to Aeonar. The mages' prison, where the barrier between our world and the Fade is thin, and very nasty things happen. The templars approach, and that's when it gets ugly. It all happens so quickly. The knife that appears in Jowan's hand seems to be conjured from the void. He plunges it into his hand, and this... sea of blood engulfs the templars and Irving. They drop like flies. Lily and myself, it leaves alone. The initiate shakes her head, unbelieving. "By the Maker, blood magic! You said you had never..." I am as surprised as she is. How many times have I asked him about it, and how many times has he denied? Countless times.

"I admit that I dabbled!" her lover babbles frantically. "I thought it would make me a better mage! Please, come with me!" He holds out his bloodstained hands.

"Blood magic is evil, Jowan. It corrupts people, changes them..." Slowly the girl steps back. "I can't believe I... I don't even know you anymore. Get away from me, blood mage."

"Lily, no!" I give her arm a shake. "Not after all this. You have to go!" Stunned, she sinks to the floor and refuses to even look at either of us. That fool destroyed everything. "Jowan, just... Just run. And don't look back." One last glance at Lily, and he runs off as fast as his legs will carry him. Good luck, my friend. I think you'll need it. I sit down beside the poor girl, and lay an arm around her shoulders. She is shivering violently. "I'm so sorry, Lily. I didn't know either." The blood mage's victims are slowly coming to their senses. Wonderful. I wonder what they have in store for me. Well, on the bright side... At least they can't make me Tranquil.


	13. Ostagar - Welcome to Ostagar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroine arrives in Ostagar, sorely missing her love.

### Ostagar - Welcome to Ostagar

Hm, so this here is Ostagar. It's impressive, for a ruin. Must've looked grand indeed when it was still an actual building. It took weeks to travel from the tower to this place. I swear, I've done more walking in a few weeks than I've done in all my days at the Circle. My feet are blistered all the way up to my armpits. If only the Wardens still had their griffons. That way I would've gotten to ride a griffon, _and_ I wouldn't have had to walk all this way. Bah humbug, I don't even want to be here. If it hadn't been for that fool Jowan, I wouldn't.

Shortly after my Harrowing he introduced me to the girl he was in love with, Lily. Very sweet and very pretty, but of course they had a problem. As a Chantry sister, she wouldn't be allowed to have "relations" (quoting Jowan) with anyone. And when you are involved with someone, there's hardly anything else you want to do. On top of that, Jowan was to be made Tranquil because he was supposedly a blood mage. So, they needed my help to destroy his phylactery and run away together. With me no longer being an apprentice, I would be able to get a rod of fire from the stockroom to burn through the locks on the door to where the phylacteries are kept. Naturally it wasn't as easy as we thought it would be.

In short, we got caught. And that was when the faeces hit the fan. As it turned out, the rumours had been true. My friend had been dabbling in blood magic and used his skills when we were caught. Our would-be captors got knocked to the floor by a ridiculous amount of blood, Lily didn't want anything to do with her lover anymore and he ran off. She surrendered herself to the Chantry; I don't know what happened to her. Hopefully they didn't hurt the poor girl too much, but I fear they sent her to a very unpleasant prison.

I myself would've been punished too if Duncan hadn't stepped in. He invoked the Right of Conscription and so the templars were forced to let me go. I didn't even know the Wardens could do such a thing, but there it is. I'm very grateful, of course; otherwise I might've been executed or made Tranquil (though that is against the rules when it concerns mages who have passed their Harrowing). Nevertheless, I don't really want to be here. I will never see Cullen again, probably. How could I return to the tower after what I did? Curse Jowan and his stupidity! Actually no, it was my own fault. Curse me and my bleeding heart! Because Lily and Jowan were in a situation similar to mine and Cullen's, I had to take pity and try to help that couple escape.

And now I am to become a Grey Warden and help quell the Blight. I even met King Cailan, isn't that something? I would expect someone of his standing to be more arrogant, but he acted like a normal man, very informal even. And boy, is he good-looking. Seems to be very fond of Grey Wardens.

But despite the royal welcome, I still feel like a steaming pile of dung. I miss my beloved so. I didn't even get to say goodbye to him. How could I? Everyone would probably have found out and I don't want Cullen to get in any trouble. Eventually I did say goodbye to Daniela. We cried and clung to one another like children to their mother. She promised to tell Cullen what had happened and to give him Mister Muffin. I'm becoming a Warden; that's my cue to grow up and stop playing with children's toys. I figured my bear would make a nice keepsake though. As a memento, Danny gave me a little container of the cherry lip balm she makes herself. I've been using it ever since. My lips are kissable and soft, but unfortunately my darling isn't around to take advantage of that.

When Cullen was gone for a few days before my Harrowing, I missed him terribly. I never thought I could miss him worse, but I was wrong. It's like an iron fist has my heart between its icy fingers, and with every breath I take, its grip tightens further. To make matters worse, I dream of him every night. I dream of the times we've spent together, I dream that he's with me. I really need some distraction. My body still has its needs, but I cannot fulfil them, because that would mean cheating on my beloved. I would rather die than do that. I've also not been able to touch myself since I left the tower. Duncan's always watching me, probably afraid I might escape. As soon as I have some time alone, I'm going to pleasure the living daylights out of myself.

Ah well, first things first. There are two other recruits for the Wardens I should talk to. The whole initiation ceremony is one big secret, it appears. Maybe they know more, although I doubt that. And I have to find another Grey Warden called Alistair. Probably some older gent, just like Duncan.


	14. Ostagar - The Sexy Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth meets a man she rather fancies.

### Ostagar - The Sexy Thief

It took me some looking around, but I've already spoken with one of the other recruits. Ser Jory, some knight from Redcliffe. He is very proud of his wife and unborn child, and of his martial skills. Duncan recruited him after winning some… knightly competition or something in Highever. I must say this guy has the funniest ears I've ever seen. And if I thought my nose was big, well, his is enormous. But I shouldn't think such unkind thoughts. He seems like a very nice person.

And here we have the other recruit, I think. Tall, wiry frame, sharp features, short black hair, bow and quiver of arrows at his back. Not bad. He could use a shave, but I suppose this adds to his charm. Ha, ha, he's trying to seduce a female soldier, saying something about how life is fleeting, how her pretty face could become a darkspawn ornament and so on. Well, this man can come and fulfil my last wishes any day. The soldier lady is walking away. Sadly, she wasn't too impressed with him. Personally I wouldn't be either, but I wouldn't do him for his eloquence.

I won't physically sleep with anyone, but there is no harm in fantasizing, is there? So, this is how it would happen. First I would introduce myself of course, and then I'd politely ask him if he'd like to spend some quality time with me. Or I'd be really rude about it and just tell him to fulfil my needs, as it were. Seeing how it is my own little fantasy, he would jump at the offer. But where oh where would we get some privacy?

I know a place. That over there is the King's tent. I had a chat with the guard (nice man) and he told me His Majesty wasn't present. All that leaves is the guard himself. But that would easily be taken care of by sending one of the many elven messengers walking around this place to tell him the king needs him at the war council. And of course there would be no repercussions for the poor thing when they find out the message was fake.

You know, I am surprised by how elves are treated here. In the Circle, we are all equal, no matter our race. More or less. Of course there would be human mages who were disdainful of the elven ones. I just consider them racist asses. Their behaviour saddens me; I mean, elves are humanoids too. At any rate, I'd drag this handsome lad into the tent and... Yes, and then what? Let's first set the scene, shall we? There is thick, soft carpet on the floor, made of the best wool. The bed is large enough for three people, with silk sheets and big, fluffy pillows. In reality, the tent is too small to hold much more than a bedroll. But it's my imagination, so I can have it any way I want. At any rate, we only have a few minutes until the guard comes rushing back. I suppose I would like to see what my companion has in his pants.

So, I'd kneel before him and take out his equipment. Let's say it's a good size, something nice to close my lips around. Both the upper and lower kind, ha-ha. But first, I would lick the tip slowly, tease him a little. My hand would be around his member, rubbing it along its length. Then I'd open my mouth and begin sucking the tip, taking more and more of him into my mouth and caressing it with my tongue. Whew, I'm getting a bit hot thinking of this. Anyway, after a minute or so he would get so impatient and excited he'd just throw me onto the bed, flip me onto my stomach and hike up my robes before entering me quickly and without any ceremony. There isn't any time for that.

It's almost as if I can feel him in me, stretching me out, filling me. I must be blushing. My legs even press together of their own accord. Mmm, I can feel my button pulsating. And when he commences thrusting into me, ah, I can almost feel that wonderful sensation spreading all throughout my body. All the while he'll be whispering dirty phrases into my ear (he kind of strikes me as a person who does such things). I can't repeat exactly what he'd be saying; it would be highly inappropriate. He'll thrust into me harder, and faster, and harder until his member begins throbbing and he deposits his seed deep within me, groaning like a wild animal.

Maker's breath, why do I think of this? As if this is going to make me feel any better. Ah, Cullen. I wonder what he's doing right now. Would he be polishing his armour, eating dinner, thinking of me even, perhaps? I do hope he doesn't resent me for not saying goodbye. Surely he understands my reasons. I often look at the ring he gave me. It is such a beautiful little thing. It reminds me of the times we spent together, cuddling, making love... His hands all over my skin, his...

Well, I could stand here all day thinking naughty thoughts, juices running down the insides of my thighs, but I have other things to do. I'd better introduce myself to my fellow recruit.


	15. Ostagar - Not What I Thought You'd Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroine finally finds Alistair.

### Ostagar - Not What I Thought You'd Be

All right, two done, one to go. I've met Ser Jory and the good-looking one was called Daveth. He did know a little more about the Joining: maybe we will go into the Korcari Wilds as part of our test. He heard that sneaking around camp at night; also told me he used to be a thief. Duncan recruited him after he'd stolen his purse in Denerim. The garrison caught him and were ready to string him up, but just like with me, Duncan invoked the Right of Conscription and saved him from that.

So all I have to do now is speak with the other Grey Warden and we'll be ready to go. I've looked around camp many times, but I still haven't found him. It has been a most fulfilling day though; the Kennel Master asked my help restraining a sick mabari so he could heal him. Poor dog became ill from ingesting too much darkspawn blood. The stuff is poisonous. Now all the man needs is a flower from the Wilds that might help him get better. Although mabari are big, tough and muscular, they are also cute in a way. And smart too; I can see it in their eyes.

And then there was a supposed deserter locked in a cage, who of course claimed to be innocent. Luckily he didn't ask me to bust him out; he just wanted some food and water. I sweet-talked his guard into giving me his own dinner. The prisoner was very grateful and gave me a key. The key is for a chest that belongs to the Circle. Yes, they are here too, but nobody I know personally. Anyway, when the Tranquil fellow that's guarding the chest has turned in for the night, I'll be free to raid its contents. I doubt the Tranquil would mind; at the worst, he would find it less than agreeable.

All right, that's it, I'm going to ask the cute blond guy over here where I can find this Alistair character. Heh, he seems to be ruffling a mage's feathers. Seems to be an arrogant man, his feathers are probably very easy to ruffle. Maker, is he cute. The blond, not the mage. Of course he can't hold a candle to my Cullen, but still. Nice. It's like I've seen his face before somewhere though, but I don't know exactly where. Maybe he has some relatives in the Circle. Ah, they seem to be done bickering and the mage is walking away. Good, at least now I can ask him something. "You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." He sounds amused. Apparently he's talking to me.

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean. Look, I've been searching all over camp but I can't find this Grey Warden named Alistair. Maybe you can help?" Oh. Wait a minute, I've spoken to everyone but this fellow. "Unless you're him." Wow, I hadn't expected him to be this young. And attractive.

"Did Duncan mention me? Nothing bad, I hope." He chuckles, a little uncomfortable for some reason. I take it as a warrior he doesn't see many women. At least he's not staring at my chest all the time, like Daveth did when I was speaking with him. It's odd when a man introduces himself to your breasts. "Oh, I know who you are. You're Duncan's new recruit, from the Circle of Magi. I should've recognized you right away. I apologize." He doesn't sound very apologetic though.

"My name is Astoreth, pleased to meet you." Being raised properly, I bow. Maybe a bit too much, but it's better to be far too polite than to be a little rude.

"Uh, right. You don't have to be so formal." But he quickly bows for me too anyway. "You know, it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is?" His voice sounds pensive. Hah, I like this guy already.

"You want more women in the Wardens, do you?" I giggle.

"Would that be so terrible? Not that I'm some drooling lecher or anything." He doesn't actually strike me as the lecherous kind. Not that I would mind very much if he were. I mean, he can look all he wants as long as he doesn't touch me. "Please stop looking at me like that," Alistair says in a little voice.

The expression on his face is priceless, all worried and adorable. I burst out laughing; I don't want to laugh at him, but I just have to. "Oh, you're funny." I wipe the tears from my face.

"Thank you." He clears his throat. "As the junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining."

"Great. I look forward to travelling with you." And that's the truth. I like him; he's nice. Not to mention pretty.

"You do? Huh. Anyhow, whenever you're ready let's head back to Duncan. I imagine he's eager to get things started."

Well, guess that settles it then. We're good to go for our Joining. Yay, and stuff.


	16. Ostagar - Just a Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding a flower apparently occasions a bout of flirtation.

### Ostagar - Just a Hug

Humph, isn't this just tons of fun? As part of our Joining, here we are in the Wilds, looking to fill three vials with darkspawn blood. And apparently there are some ancient Grey Warden treaties lying about somewhere that we have to locate as well. I swear, I've already seen my share of corpses and we only just got here. The ground was littered with bloodied dead soldiers. One of them was still alive (barely) and staggered back to camp after Alistair put some bandages on him. I hope he didn't die on the way.

Ah well, at least I'm reasonably safe here with three men to guard me. This mustard-coloured atrocity that's supposed to pass for a robe doesn't really offer all that much protection. And seeing how it clings to my curves, Daveth keeps on ogling me. I don't really mind; it's kind of a compliment, isn't it? Although he could stand to be more subtle about it.

"Oh hey, look here. A white flower with a red centre. I need to bring one of these back to camp." I pick the flower matching the description the Kennel Master gave me. I really want that poor mabari to get better.

"What for?" Daveth asks me curiously.

"The Kennel Master needs it to heal an injured mabari." I turn to our fearless leader. "Please Alistair, can we go back to help the dog?"

He shrugs. "Sure, why not." Not a very stern leader, is he?

"All this trouble for a dog." Our thief sighs and shakes his head. "I could use some tender loving care myself, you know."

"Uh, there, there?" I gently pat his head. Oh my, his hair feels soft. Reminds me of... I miss him so.

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of this." Suddenly I am in Daveth's arms, held tightly against his chest. What just happened? Ah, but he smells so very, very nice. My knees are going weak. His breath is warm against my neck, his hands resting dangerously low on my back. Maker's breath, my body has gone unloved for far too long. I'm just seconds away from assaulting him, despite the audience. I don't hear a peep out of the other two, by the way. Only shocked silence. Thankfully my bold companion lets go of me soon, hands still on my waist. As he swallows I can see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Thank you," he whispers. His hazel eyes are so vivid, pretty colour too.

"I uhm, you're welcome, I suppose. Although such an invasion of personal space warrants a warning." But I have to admit, it felt nice. Too nice. I am _so_ wet right now.

"Yes Daveth, you should've asked her permission first," Alistair pipes up. Jory's just clearing his throat awkwardly, shuffling his feet. Well, at least our fearless leader's trying. Somewhat.

"I'm sorry," Daveth says with a smile. "I just needed a hug." In an unexpected act of tenderness, he briefly caresses my cheek. What the…?

"Let's just deliver this flower." I turn away and begin walking in the other direction.

All the way back to camp my mind wanders. What if he'd taken it further? What if those hands had gone lower, squeezed my behind, his lips kissing my neck, lighting a fire in my belly? If his nimble fingers had unhooked my robes, bared my skin, stroked my breasts and played with my nipples? What then if one of those hands crept down my stomach, slipped into my panties and began caressing my button until I'd quiver in his arms, my body convulsing with pleasure, moaning…

"Are you all right?" Daveth's looking at me again, but without the leering I've so gotten used to.

I snap out of my musings. "Huh? Sure, why do you ask?"

"Your face is red, and…" he puts his hand against my forehead, "hot. Are you feeling well?"

Apart from the fact that I feel incredibly horny? Yes. Well, to be perfectly honest, I often feel very nauseous when I awaken, but that clears right up after I've had breakfast. I am physically homesick, isn't that something? Never thought I'd miss that cold, crammed tower, but I sure do now. You never know what you've got until it's gone. An overused old saying, but no less true.

"I'm just peachy. But I appreciate the concern." I smile at him. He is nice, if a bit obvious in what he wants from me. I wish I could give it to him, I really do, but I can't. Argh, when will I have some time to myself? An orgasm or two (or three, maybe four, no more than six, really) should calm me down a little.

"All right then, if you say so." After one last glance, he looks away.

There's camp. That was quick. Time flies when your mind is occupied with... other things.


	17. Ostagar - Bet Your Boots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daveth has awful timing.

### Ostagar - Bet Your Boots

So, the Kennel Master was very pleased with the flower. I got to pet the dog one more time before we headed out again. He looked a little better than before, luckily. The flower is sure to cure the poor creature. Here we are again, surrounded by lush plant life. I would be fascinated if my feet didn't hurt so badly. Hopefully we won't have to venture very far. I hear darkspawn can just *poof* pop up out of the ground like mushrooms. Interesting, right? I hope I'll get to see it.

Suddenly I'm sitting in the grass on my bum. I bumped into Alistair and fell. "Warden senses, tingling!" he says. Oh, that's right, Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn.

"So, what do you suggest we do?" We recruits stare at our leader. He stares back at us, silent. "Are there many?" I can see Alistair needs some help. He's probably not used to the whole leader thing.

"Afraid so. Too many for just the four of us. So, Daveth, Astoreth, why don't you two go lure some here for us?" He eyes us with a hopeful look. So much for fearless then.

"Are you mad? I'm defenceless! I need all three of you to keep me alive here." I know I sound like a whiny brat, but I value my life quite highly.

"Don't you worry little lady, I'll protect you." Daveth wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer. Again. I wish he'd stop doing that. It only serves to confuse my fragile little mind.

"See? You're safe as can be!" Alistair grins and puts his thumbs up. "But seriously, they can sense me too, and you aren't Wardens just yet. Both of you work well from a long range, and Jory doesn't. So please?" Ah, how could I resist such puppy eyes? Damn it, I'm so soft-hearted.

I sigh. "Fine. We'll just shoot them and come running back when they approach." We sneak into the direction our leader points to. It's a good thing I've had to creep about so often, you know, with Cullen. I'm sure my skills of quiet will serve me well in the time to come. "Where are the buggers then? Maybe his Warden senses are having an off day." I haven't seen any darkspawn just yet. Aw, I was so looking forward to… Oh, there they are. Quite far away, but it's obvious they're not humans. Their movements are different and they make these grunting, animal-like noises.

"Before we start shooting anything, could I ask you something?" Daveth's hand is on my arm, his eyes fixed on my face.

"Do you really think this is a good time? Ask me anything you like when we're done here."

"They haven't found us just yet. Just, uhm…" Suddenly he seems uncomfortable. Oh boy, he sure picked the right moment to go asking awkward questions.

"Speak up man, I don't have all day." The sooner we lure and or kill some of these darkspawn, the better.

"All right." He takes a deep breath. "Don't you like me, at all?"

"What?" I can only stare at him in astonishment. There are darkspawn some... What, thirty feet away? "You mean, do I like you enough to sleep with you?" I might as well humour the silly sod.

His cheeks turn red. "I er... I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but that is what it comes down to."

I sigh. "Let me make something clear for you." Now I must take a deep breath. "I would've gladly jumped your bones the moment we met, but I cannot. I'm already taken." Please just leave me alone. Before I do something I regret.

"Oh, is that it?" He utters a sigh of relief and laughs. "Good. I thought I was beginning to lose my touch."

"Heh, you're not. Are we good now?" I'm glad he's not disappointed or anything.

"Yes, thanks." He bends down and plants a kiss on my cheek. Damn it, I miss being kissed by my darling. I miss his sweet scent, his arms around me, his warm body in my bed. It's not fair, you know; I only got to enjoy that wonderful bed for such a short time. "Hello?" Daveth waves his hand before my face. "Are you still here?"

I shake my head. Now's not the time to think of these things. "Yes, yes." Great, now I feel sad again. Ah well, killing a few darkspawn should distract me well enough. "Well then, are you ready for this?" I take my staff into my hand.

Daveth's already got his bow at the ready, arrow nocked and all. He grins. "You bet your boots I am."


	18. Ostagar - Like Cherries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, it's getting too dark to find the way back to Ostagar.

### Ostagar - Like Cherries

"Wow, look at how ugly it is!" I pull a genlock's head up by the ears to show the others. The greenish skin, the sharp teeth, hideous features... Fascinating! Hurlocks are no oil paintings either.

"Yes, when I fought my first one, I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was," Alistair says, cringing away from the darkspawn corpse. There are quite a few here, maybe twenty. We did well.

"Aw, don't be afraid... They can't hurt you anymore." I pat our fearless leader on the shoulder. He glares at me in return, a scowl on his face. It does his handsome features no good.

"All done!" Daveth proudly displays the three filled vials. All the blood that didn't get into them, seems to be on him.

"Wow, you are dirty." He looks worse than those dead soldiers we saw a while ago.

"I know," he responds in a smooth voice, wiggling his eyebrows. This reminds me of Daniela. I try to restrain myself but I can't. Before long I'm rolling on the ground, laughing like a maniac. It only gets worse when Daveth begins tickling me.

"Aargh! No, no! Stop!" I try to push him away, but he's so damned quick. Ah, the things those hands could do... Suddenly the tickling stops and I hear a sniffing sound.

"You smell like cherries. I like it." His face is really close to mine now. Fight the temptation, Astoreth, resist it.

"That's my lip balm." I take the container from my pocket. "You could use some yourself," I say, applying a thin layer to his lips. With chapped monstrosities like those, he might just lose his touch.

"Why, thank you." He smacks his lips with a delighted expression on his face. "Ooh, and it tastes good too."

"Well, you two are certainly getting along well," Jory says dryly. He hasn't spoken in a while.

I prop myself up on my elbows and look over to him. "Are you all right? You're awfully quiet."

The knight sighs, looks a bit forlorn. "I am fine. I just miss my wife; she's heavy with child and... Then there's this ritual we know nothing of. Have you seen those soldiers? Almost an entire patrol of seasoned men, slaughtered by these... things." He kicks the dead hurlock at his feet and sighs again.

I feel sorry for him. It must be terrible leaving behind your pregnant beloved. He sure must be fond of his Helena, with the way he speaks of her. I get up to stand beside him. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?" I show him a friendly smile. I can sympathize with how he feels; after all, I know what it's like to leave a loved one behind. Several loved ones, actually. One of them is even missing. I mean, Jowan could be eating cake in Orlais for all I know.

"No, but thank you. That is very kind of you." He smiles back at me, a little less forlorn. But only a little.

"It's getting dark," Alistair suddenly says. "And we still haven't found the treaties Duncan needed."

"So what? Do we return to Ostagar?" I don't really look forward to trekking there _again_.

"It's probably better to set up camp right here. I sense no darkspawn, we should be safe." Alistair looks at each of us in turn, gauging the reactions.

"I don't really see a problem with that. Do you two?" Please, please don't make me walk more. I'm glad there's a bedroll in my pack.

Daveth shrugs. "Fine with me."

Jory on the other hand, looks reluctant. "What if they ambush us, jump out of the ground?"

"Don't worry, I'll start screaming like a girl and wake all of you up." Alistair smirks. He's so funny.

"That's... reassuring. As the others all agree, I don't see how I could object." Jory begins unpacking with a sigh of resignation. We just follow his example, without the sighing.


	19. Ostagar - Dinner Is Served

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who gets to do the cooking?

### Ostagar - Dinner Is Served

I've started a fire and the others insisted I cook. It must be because I'm not the proud owner of a penis like the other three; so much for emancipation. I've never prepared a meal before in my life, but it seems to be going well. It's lamb and pea stew. This should be interesting.

Behind me I hear someone softly clearing their throat. "Er, Miss Amell?"

"Please, Ser Jory, just call me Astoreth." I look up, still stirring the stew. "No need to be so formal."

The knight looks lost and nervous. "Then you might as well drop the ser. May I have a moment of your time?"

"Of course. Just a moment, let me taste this." Alistair said I should let it boil until everything goes grey, but I hope he's kidding. That sounds disgusting. Hmm, no. Just a little longer, and a bit more seasoning. Yes, much better. "Go ahead; what is it?"

"Are you also having doubts about this ritual we are to participate in?" Jory nervously fidgets about, his agitation clear as day. "Don't you fear what it might entail?"

I shrug. "I suppose I'm curious, but how bad could it be?" His sad demeanour causes me a pang of sympathy in the gut. "You just miss your family, don't you? And you'd like to be there for your wife when she gives birth, no?"

"You are right, of course," the man sighs. "My wife is heavy with child, so I was loath to leave her behind. But... Ferelden needs my blade and I will not falter."

"So it does." I give the stew another stir. Almost done now, I think. "How did you and Helena meet?"

The knight smiles fondly. "I was in Arl Eamon's retinue when he attended King Maric's funeral. It was in Highever that I met my Helena. I instantly fell in love with her beautiful eyes, and for years I found any excuse to return to Highever."

"Aww, how sweet." The adorably doting look on his face makes me feel a bit better; I'm not the only one away from their beloved. "You know, I wouldn't worry too much about the Joining. Just trust that everything will be fine, and you will soon be able to go see your wife, and your new child. What do you think it will be, a boy or a girl?"

"My mother used to say that when a woman who is with child has a round belly, she will give birth to a girl," Jory replies sagely. "If her belly has a more pointed shape to it, the child will be a boy. Personally, I don't believe in that silly superstition. And the sex is of no import; I will be happy as long as the baby is healthy."

Huh, I've never heard of such a belief. "So what shape does your wife's belly have?"

"Wonderfully round." The knight's cheeks and ears turn a slight red, his eyes glaze over. Methinks someone has a thing for full-bodied, pregnant women. Heh. I had no idea the big, tough soldier could be this utterly adorable.

Ah, the stew looks ready now, with the meat falling off the bone. And the peas are soft, so it's all done. You know, it doesn't even taste bad. Quite good, actually. If the whole Grey Warden thing doesn't work out, I could find a job in a kitchen somewhere. "I think it's ready. Will you tell the others that dinner is served?"

"I will. Thank you." The other recruit nods amiably. "I feel slightly better."

I show the man a nice smile. "Glad I am to hear it."

Jory hasn't even been gone for three seconds before he returns with the others. They flock around me with their bowls like a swarm of bees. "Jish ish goof!" Alistair says with his mouth full. I take it that means "this is good"? Wow, he must really like it, the way he's stuffing his face.

"I agree. Very tasty." Daveth winks at me. At least he had the courtesy to empty his mouth before speaking.

"Uhm, yes." Jory sounds sad again. "You've outdone yourself." So far he's only taken a few little bites.

"Are you sure you're all right?" I was so hungry I'm already down to my second helping. Even burned the roof of my mouth, imagine how eager I was to get something in my belly. That pales in comparison to how eagerly I want something a little lower. Ah, when the others are asleep.

"Yes. I'm just not very hungry. But it tastes good." Jory idly stirs his stew with his spoon.

"Are you going to finish that?" Alistair eyes his stirring motions hungrily.

"No, help yourself." Jory hands him his bowl. "I will turn in. Goodnight, everyone." We all wish him the same. Poor thing. His shoulders are sagging. I hope he'll be able to return to his family soon. My talking to him really hasn't done much, has it?

After a whopping five bowls, Daveth rubs his stomach and burps. "Pardon me. Well, goodnight." I watch him as he walks away. He has a nice-looking behind, rawr.

Maker's breath, Alistair's stomach must be like a bottomless pit. I lost count after I watched him shovel down his eighth helping. "I think I'm going to sleep as well. Will you be all right here?" I must sound amused. I am. I've never seen anyone eat this much.

"Yes. I'm just going to finish this. Thanks for dinner." He flashes me a quick smile before he digs in again. There are green bits stuck in his teeth.

"You must get a lot of exercise. Goodnight, chief." I yawn. This has been a very exciting day.

"Goodnight." He looks up from his food. "And don't call me chief!"


	20. Ostagar - Sharing Means Caring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's far too cold to sleep alone.

### Ostagar - Sharing Means Caring

Our bedrolls are all a few yards apart. I'm safely surrounded by Alistair and (yes, not the smartest choice) Daveth. Alistair was the first to lay down his bedding and I wanted to be the first to awaken to his girlish screaming should darkspawn appear, so I set up next to him. Daveth set up next to me, because he apparently still wants to bed me, against his better judgement. That or the other two have annoying sleeping habits I'm not yet aware of.

Ah, my bedroll looks so inviting. I'm really tired. And still very horny. But first I should get out my sleeping gear. Here is my prize: Cullen's torn shirt. His scent is nearly gone from the fabric. Maybe I should be sleeping in my robes, but then they'd get all stinky. And I am a lady; ladies don't reek. The others seem to be asleep already. At least, for as far as I can tell from their deep, regular breathing. Daveth could be watching my every move for all I know. But never mind that, I'm too tired to get all paranoid.

I uncoil my good old bun and quickly braid my hair. Then I throw my robes onto the ground in a sloppy pile. My bodice and stockings soon follow suit. Maker, how cold it is. I begin shivering like a leaf. Cullen's shirt doesn't help me much either. I wish he were here; I'm sure he'd keep me warm. Would he be in bed now too? I never got to see where he sleeps. As I get into my bedroll, I notice it's too thin. This way I will surely fail to fall asleep.

"Isn't it cold?" Daveth suddenly whispers next to me. I nearly jump up. That sure was sudden. What's he still doing awake? Probably the cold. Jory seems to be doing fine somehow. I am jealous.

"It certainly is. Having trouble sleeping?" The light from the fire a distance away faintly illuminates this area, so I can at least see something. Hazel eyes are glowing in the half-dark.

"Yes. The cold keeps me awake. You know," his voice suddenly has a mischievous tone to it, "I hear that two people can keep one another warm by keeping close, sharing a bedroll. Just thought I'd put it out there."

"Are you suggesting we should do this?" You know, it doesn't sound like a bad idea. Provided he can keep his hands to himself. "Move over." I quickly crawl out of my sleeping place and into his. It's a little warmer in here, but not by much. Oh my, he doesn't seem to be wearing a lot of clothing.

"That is so much better." There is relief in my companion's voice. I must admit I like it better than shivering all by myself. Now I have company, and we're beginning to warm up even.

"Yes, but please try to keep your hands off me, or I'll..." Or what, girl? As if I could do anything to truly hurt him.

"Don't worry, I promise I'll be good," Daveth says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Don't want you to light me on fire, or anything."

"If you behave, I won't." I turn my back to him and close my eyes. "Goodnight."

He drapes his arm across my waist. "Goodnight." His lips are so close to my ear they brush me. It sends a pleasant tingle down my spine. And the lip balm worked well for him.

Wait, wait, what's he doing now? His hand is on my stomach, going lower and lower. I don't really want this to happen, but... I kind of like it. If his hand would happen to end up between my legs, well, I would probably not even try to set him on fire, not even a little. When his hand stops just a few inches above my panties, I almost feel disappointed. No, not almost. I feel very disappointed. Well, at least I can trust him. His body is warm against my back and I don't feel cold anymore either. I have to admit, this idea of his was pure gold.

Soon his breathing becomes slow and steady. I'm quite sure he's asleep now. Good, finally I can play with myself. I slip my hand into my panties, careful not to wake my personal heater. It really arouses me, touching myself with others so close and unsuspecting. My button pulsates when I touch it; it only needs a few strokes before pleasure erupts in my stomach and travels through my entire body. I've been waiting for this for weeks! No orgasm I've ever had before was this intense; it's as if every fibre in my body is on fire. I try hard to keep lying motionless, but my body still convulses slightly. Behind me Daveth stirs, mumbling something intelligible. His grip on me tightens, but then he lies still once more. Whew, I'm still safe.

Heh, now I'm all lightheaded. And unbelievably wet. I coat my index and middle finger in the moisture and slowly enter. My flesh clings tightly to my fingers. Oh Cullen, I'd give anything to have you here with me, to have you in me. I miss you so. My fingers slide in and out of me of their own accord. Blast, I forgot to bring my candle; it's still in the tower. Still, nothing could ever replace the wonderful feeling of my beloved's hard member deep within me. Thrusting into me, making my body unbearably hot, sending shivers of pleasure through me. I begin circling my button with my thumb; in mere moments I come again. A soft moan escapes my lips, no matter how hard I try to keep quiet.

Ah, so what if they heard me? I'm sure only my bed buddy would make lewd comments about it and I've gotten quite used to him by now. My free hand closes around my breast, tweaking my hard nipple, squeezing it just a little, making my climax feel just a little better. My mind feels a bit hazy. Good. The tension is gone, as if by magic. Well, orgasms are quite magical. I withdraw my slick fingers and lick them clean. There, it's like I haven't laid a hand on myself.

Something hard is poking into my bum. Oh, I know what _that_ is. I wish I had one of those for private use. I wonder how big it is... You know, I only have to reach back and take it out. But no, I shouldn't. Could this mean he's been awake this whole time, watching me? I wiggle my behind against his hard-on. Hardly any response, just a sleepy grumble. Thank the Maker, it's only an involuntary response.

I sigh contently. I feel good now. Nice and warm too. Mmm.


	21. Ostagar - Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, thank goodness, it was all a bad dream. Or was it?

### Ostagar - Sweet Dreams

I bolt upright to find myself in my lovely bed at the tower. Ah, I knew all that crap about Jowan being a blood mage and going to the Korcari Wilds to become a Grey Warden was a dream. How could anyone want _me_ as a Warden? How sweet. Cullen is lying next to me, sleeping peacefully. His eyes flutter open and he smiles at me.

"Hey darling, you know, I just had the strangest dream," I whisper to him. "I dreamed I helped Jowan escape from here, who turned out to be a blood mage and I got recruited into the Grey Wardens to avoid my punishment. Isn't that something?"

The smile on my beloved's face saddens. "That was not a dream. This is." My blood seems to freeze in my veins.

"Please tell me you're kidding," I beg.

He shakes his head. "Right now, you're sharing a bedroll with another man to keep warm. You are dreaming of me because you miss me." He caresses my face with his calloused hand. It feels so real.

"Is that really you, Cullen?" I'm very close to tears. I really thought all that nonsense was just a dream.

Again he shakes his head. "I am, in fact, a figment of your imagination, or more like the fulfilment of a wish, if you will. But I seem real enough, don't I?" His arms close around my waist and pull me closer. The warmth of his body, the softness of his lips pressed to mine, his intoxicating scent, they all seem so genuine. "Just make the best of it, love," he whispers into my ear. He's right. This may not be real, but I might as well enjoy it while I can. So I run my fingers through his hair, caress every bit of bare skin I can find and kiss him as if I'm trying to devour him. This figment of my imagination reacts just like my Cullen would, softly moaning deep in his throat and gently running his hands all over my body.

I push him onto his back and straddle his hips. His hardness pulsates against me. "I miss you."

"I know." He smiles and pulls me down for a long, tender kiss. "You'll just have to make do until we can meet again."

"Do you think we will meet again?" I stare hopefully into his warm chestnut eyes.

He laughs, that beautiful sound I've rarely heard but treasure just because it is so rare. "How should I know? I am you."

The time for talking is over. I slowly lower myself onto him, revelling in the feeling of his hard member stretching me, filling me, making me shiver with delight. I throw back my head and moan. No need to keep quiet; this is my dream, after all.

Under me Cullen is making the same sounds, his moaning loud and unrestrained as I move up and down his shaft. His hands grab a firm hold of my breasts and squeeze them, rolling my nipples between his fingers. I don't think he's ever been this rough with them before, but holy Maker, does it feel good. It seems to take a very, very long time before he begins throbbing. Groaning loudly he comes inside me, his grip on my breasts tightening painfully. I let myself fall onto him, covering his handsome face with kisses. When he's shrunken so far he slips out all on his own, I lie down next to him and he takes me in his strong arms.

"I hope we can meet again." Lazily I trace circles on his chest with my forefinger.

"So do I. Now sleep, you'll feel much better in the morning." He plants a kiss on the top of my head and begins stroking my hair. It's such a soothing feeling. I close my eyes.


	22. Ostagar - Very Inappropriate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daveth just doesn't know how to behave.

### Ostagar - Very Inappropriate

"Aw, would you look at that?" I vaguely hear a man's voice say somewhere above me. The voice is filled with endearment, almost gushing.

"Very inappropriate, if you ask me. They've only just met." A different man's voice, with a slightly miffed tone to it.

Ugh, what's going on? And whose body am I tangled around? I also feel someone's erection against my stomach. My mind is pretty useless when I've just woken up. My wonderful dream is still fresh in my mind. But let's see... Right. I'm in the cold, cold Korcari Wilds, doing something to become a Grey Warden. Yes, darkspawn blood, check. Treaties, we needed treaties. Haven't found them yet. There were three others with me, three men. Two of them good-looking, one not so much. One of them kept making passes at me and I've spent the night in a bedroll with him. Yes Astoreth, that is such a smart thing of you to do, you dummy.

I crack my eyes open. "Don't judge me; we were just trying to keep warm." Alistair's smiling brightly at me, Jory looks plain grumpy. "Really. We've not been doing anything inappropriate." Well, _we_ haven't. I pat Daveth firmly on the cheek. He looks kind of cute in his sleep, his head resting on my chest. "Daveth, wake up. We have to go." Heavy sleeper. He doesn't respond at all.

"Rise and shine!" Alistair bellows. My bed buddy startles awake. He slides back a bit, in an effort to hide his uhm, morning condition. "I didn't do anything, don't set me on fire!"

"Relax, would you?" I yawn. Wow, he looks scared. "I know how it goes, when you wake up, you get so hard it's difficult to aim where you pee." Cullen once told me that. I'm glad I have no such problems, although monthly flows are no picnic either.

"Oh, so you're not going to kill me?" He eyes me with a hopeful grin.

"No, don't be silly, I..." Maker, am I suddenly nauseous. Worse even, I can feel I'm about to lose my dinner. I scramble out of the bedroll and make a break for the nearest bush. I hope the plants don't mind getting fertilized with half-digested lamb and pea stew. Ugh, I hate throwing up; that disgusting sour taste, yuck. Now my throat is sore too. Must've been something wrong with the food yesterday. The others probably have far stronger stomachs.

"Are you all right? You went a little green in the face there." Daveth pats me on the back and hands me a cup of water. I drain it in one big gulp.

"Yes, I'm better now. Thank you." Why is he looking at me like that, with a big stupid grin plastered to his face? Oops, it would seem my chest is uncovered. I forgot I was only wearing an open shirt.

"Nice," he mutters. Well, look who's talking. I'm glad he's still shirtless; now I have something to feast my eyes on while he does the same, apparently. I can't help but compare him to Cullen, but no man could ever compare to him. Still, in his own right, Daveth looks quite attractive, with his sinewy build, broad chest and well-developed arms. And that thin line of hair below his navel, leading ever lower looks so… tempting. I shake my head. No naughty thoughts about men who are readily available for you.

"Are you quite done?" I close my shirt and cross my arms before my chest. I can't even be mad at him; that silly expression on his face is just priceless.

"Aw, I suppose so." His eyes move lower. "Then again, I could always look at your legs."

"Very cute. I'm going to get dressed." Making sure to keep my shirt closed, I get back to where I dropped my robes and underwear. At least now it's warmer than it was last night. It's not exactly tropical, but it's bearable.

Alistair and Jory have already packed their gear and are waiting for us a distance away. I can tell all the way from here that our knight is still grumpy. Maybe he's not a morning person, or he's convinced more than sleeping went on in Daveth's bedroll last night. Even if it were so, it's not his damned business, now is it?

I first pull my stockings on over my legs. That feels much better, but if I get the chance, I should buy thicker ones. You'll never know when you might be trudging through snow, or hail, or whatever. Cullen's shirt always goes into my pack neatly folded. I cradle it to my face and inhale. His scent is faint, but it's still there. It always reminds me of the very first time we made love, when his scent was all around me. Maybe I will get to see him again, someday. I certainly hope so. As I'm buttoning up my bodice, I hear a whistle of approval behind me. Daveth, again. I turn around. "Would you just knock it off?" I nearly crash into him. He was closer than I thought.

"I can't help it." He lays a hand on the small of my back, gazes into my eyes. "You're just so..." His lips are moving closer to mine too. This is bad. Fight the temptation, girl! Think of Cullen! That does it. I can hardly trust myself. Quickly I conjure the words to a paralysation spell. "Why can't I move?" he says slowly, his voice alarmed. I twist out of his grasp.

"I paralysed you. I meant it when I said I was taken. Also, do you really want to swap saliva with someone who was vomiting in the bushes only moments ago? Now stop harassing me." Before long my bodice is closed and my robes are too. I quickly roll up my bedroll and stuff it into my pack.

"You made your point. I'm sorry!" Poor thing sounds like he's close to tears. "Now please undo it!"

"Don't worry, it will only take a few minutes." I pat his head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done this. I was desperate." His frightened eyes are moving around erratically. I feel guilty. Sadly, I've never been known for thinking things through before taking action. "I'm sorry. Any moment now, so don't be afraid." I get closer and hug him, trying to soothe him. After a few minutes he's wrapped his arms around my waist, free to move again.

"I promise I'll behave from now on. Really." His voice is regretful and slightly trembles with fear.

"Good. You know, you're far too attractive for your own good. And mine." Argh, why did I say that? Now he's going to get ideas.

"Oh?" At least it did work to cheer him up a little. "Ah well, I'll try hitting on that pretty soldier girl again when we get back."

"That's the spirit." I let go of him. "Now put your leathers back on, we need to get going."

While Daveth is busy getting dressed, I pack up the remainder of his gear for him. It's the least I could do for keeping me warm and scaring him so. I hand him his pack.

"Thank you," he says meekly.

"You're welcome." Well, treaties, here we come!


	23. Ostagar - No Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventurers unwittingly dig up a Chasind cache.

### Ostagar - No Games

"What's _that_?" Alistair responds to Daveth pulling a wrapped bundle out of a hollow tree stump. The latter shrugs and begins opening it. Out come all manners of weapons, among which a two-handed sword that's swiftly claimed by Ser Jory. He happily swings it around, nearly slicing a bit off Alistair's ear. Our leader is blissfully unaware something unpleasant could've happened to him.

Daveth walks up to me with sparkling eyes. "You might want this," he says, handing me some article of clothing. I can see why he looks so pleased with himself: it's an enchanted robe, very low cut in the front and very short too. The colour is lovely; a pale green.

"You mean you might want to see me in it?" I stick out my tongue. Truly, he can't help himself apparently. Still with the comments, but at least he's stopped laying his hands on me.

"That too, but you don't seem very happy with your robes." He looks at me pleadingly. But he's right though, I really don't like yellow. And with all the darkspawn blood on it, well, I suppose I should throw it away. Or sell it, depending on how picky the quartermaster at Ostagar is.

"I'll be right back." I move behind a tree from where I can observe my companions. Alistair and Jory are acting like they've won the lottery, touching every item and ooh-ing and ah-ing. Daveth just seems to be eager to see me return. Hope springs eternal, I guess.

I strip out of my old robes and get into the new ones. They fit perfectly. I especially like the high collar with furry skin (bear, I think) attached to it that I'm supposed to wear draped across my shoulders. Well, I've never dressed this revealingly before. I mean, my breasts are largely exposed and my stockings are showing. Somehow, I'm not cold. No, far from it, I'm very hot. Now that I'm alone...

I lean my back against the tree and slide my panties down, until they are bunched around my ankles. My right hand slips down my stomach, rubbing between my wet lips, stroking my button. Ah, I just love the outdoors! I close my eyes, feeling the heat increase in my body, feeling it turn into an inferno when my climax approaches me with great strides. I bite back a moan as that tidal wave of pleasure washes over me. Somewhere near me I hear a soft gasp. Oh no, he didn't...

Yes, it's as I suspected. Daveth is standing close to me, blushing fiercely and apparently rooted to the spot. As soon as he notices my eyes are open, he raises his hands and begins babbling. "I wasn't spying, I swear! You, you just took so long I thought you might need help lacing something up, and..." The fear is back in his eyes. Aw, to the Fade with this, I don't want him to be afraid of me.

"Don't worry." My voice is slow and lazy, just like my mind is after an orgasm. I remove my hand from between my legs and inspect it. My fingers are wet and glistening. If he wants to play games with me, I can play along. Instead of sticking my fingers into my mouth to clean them like I usually do, I open my mouth and slowly lap up the wetness with my tongue.

His hazel eyes are fixed to my motions and the fear in them slowly dissipates. If I weren't already taken, I'd slam this handsome fellow to the ground and ride him like a pony. To be filled with something large, hard and throbbing would be so good right now.

"So," I twirl around, "you like?"

He nods and swallows. "You look stunning." His voice is hoarse, and thick with lust. Damn it. In the tower I was pining for months to find a man to sleep with, and this one practically keeps throwing himself at me. Ah well, if my fellow mages were male harlots like Daveth seems to be, I would probably never have fallen in love with Cullen.

Suddenly I'm pinned between the tree and Daveth's body. His lips are on my neck, covering my skin with hungry kisses. I should've known better than to taunt him. But damned if it doesn't feel good. I should push him away, but I can't. Strong will? Gone. Flown out the window.

"Please, don't." I wanted to sound pleading but it comes out like a lustful moan. Yes, that's really going to help.

"Don't play games with me if you're not prepared to follow through." His lips trail lower, planting a kiss between my breasts. His stubble pricks into my skin. One of his hands is one my thigh, petting me through the fabric of my stocking, the other baring my breast. I can't help but utter a long-drawn cry as his tongue curls around my nipple. "Hush, girl." His hand moves closer to the inside of my thigh, his fingers grazing my swollen lips. This is so going the wrong way; I can't even struggle anymore. How did that spell go again? Maker's breath, I've forgotten. Let's hope this is temporary.

"Look, it may not sound so, but I beg you..." I wanted to say to stop, but oh my, the things he does with his tongue drive me nearly insane. Suddenly I hear hurried footsteps approaching. Here comes the cavalry. 

"What are you... Oh no." Alistair sounds shocked. I can only imagine; quite a sight we must be. Daveth is abruptly torn away from me. I sigh in relief between the panting. Jory's glaring at me again.

"I know this looks bad." Ugh, how did I get into this mess? I want Cullen, now. Without him I'm just... lost. My vision goes blurry and my lower lip begins trembling. No, don't cry in front of them. Ah, too late. "I'm sorry! I left my love in the tower and I've been so alone but he keeps making passes at me and I can hardly resist... and... and..." I'm blubbering. Terrible.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I hear Jory say with pity in his voice. He awkwardly pats my shoulder.

"Now look what you've done!" Alistair says angrily. I hear a loud slapping noise and an "Ow!" from Daveth. I hope that really hurt.

"I didn't know that! I just thought she was playing hard to get!" our thief whines.

"I wasn't!" I sniffle. "I miss him so." Huh, I feel better. You know I just realized I haven't cried since... Since that first time with Cullen. And that wasn't even from grief. I guess all I needed was a good, loud crying session.

"Feeling a little better now?" Jory looks at me with concern in his eyes and gives my shoulder a squeeze.

I wipe the tears from my face and manage to smile. "Yes, thank you."

"Now you, apologize to her. And leave her alone from now on or I will seriously hurt you. Understood?" Alistair pushes Daveth towards me. He actually is a good leader after all.

Daveth walks up to me, dragging his feet. "I'm sorry. I really had no idea." He opens his arms for a hug. Aw, why not? I let him fold me into an embrace. His hand strokes my back, staying neatly on my shoulder blades. I sense no ulterior motives this time. After a few moments he lets go of me and extends his hand. "Let's just be friends, all right?"

I cock my head to the side and stare at his face. He seems honest, so I take his hand and shake it. "Okay, fine. Friends." I feel... relieved. I can't believe it took me breaking down and crying before he would leave me alone.

His face breaks into a smile. "Oh, and by the way," he bends down, "your panties are still around your ankles," he whispers.

"Thanks for the heads up." My face feels warm. How could I forget that? Stupid, stupid. I'm lucky the grass is tall. "Why don't you three leave me alone for a few moments, so I can... think."

Alistair and Jory shoot me a pitiful look and trudge away; Daveth winks and follows them. I bend down and put my panties back on. What am I going to do without Cullen? Bah, if I lose control whenever some attractive guy is around, I'm going to be in trouble. And this robe doesn't help. Well, I shouldn't keep them waiting for too long.


	24. Ostagar - Perky Breasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventurers meet a Witch of the Wilds. Eep!

### Ostagar - Perky Breasts

All right, so this is the spot where the treaties should be. And this is the box that should contain them. But lo and behold, it is broken and empty. Of course stuff like this is never easy. Suddenly I hear three simultaneous gasps of surprise. What? What's going on?

I turn to see possibly the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. She's thin (her arms are like sticks), but her breasts, wow, they are _perky_. Beautiful face with full crimson lips and her eyes... They seem to be yellow. How odd. Interesting outfit too, with the feathers and the leather, all those necklaces adorning her chest.

"Well, well, what have we here? Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones have been long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of... easy prey?" she says in a lovely deep voice. I can only stare. Just, wow. "What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?" She looks straight at me.

"Eep, a Witch of the Wilds! She'll turn us into toads!" Daveth squeaks. I roll my eyes. The other two keep quiet.

"You there. Women do not frighten like little boys," the strange woman addresses me. "Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

I make a little bow. "My name is Astoreth. A pleasure to meet you."

"Now that is a proper civil greeting, even here in the Wilds," she chuckles. "You may call me Morrigan." Morrigan. Such a beautiful name for such a beautiful creature.

"All right, Morrigan. We are here to find ancient Grey Warden treaties. Have you seen them?" I could act all scared like the others, but that won't get us anywhere. Neither am I scared.

"You stole them, didn't you?" Alistair suddenly pipes up. "You're… some kind of… sneaky… witch-thief!" I snicker at that last remark. I'm sure it was supposed to sound serious, but our leader isn't exactly a paragon of eloquence. "Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them!" he demands.

Morrigan folds her arms and glares at him. "I will not, for 'twas not I who removed them…" She opens her mouth to say more, but I'm quite sure it will take hours if I just let them bicker. This must be dislike at first sight.

"Then could you tell us who did remove them?" I smile at her, and the angry look in her eyes softens.

"'Twas my mother, in fact." Her diction is strange, so old-fashioned. I cannot believe people choose to live in these cold, damp surroundings.

"Will you take us to her?" I swear, it's like I'm the voice of reason here. Which means we're doomed.


	25. Ostagar - Watch Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth comes to the conclusion that the outdoors suck.

### Ostagar - Watch Out

Morrigan is guiding the four of us deep into the Wilds. So far I've tripped over six (6) protruding tree roots, been smacked in the face with eight (8) branches and stubbed my toe three (3) times on a rock. Needless to say, I'm in considerable pain.

"She'll put us all in the pot, she will. Just you watch," Daveth frets, running his hands through his hair in worry. What is all this fuss about?

"If the pot's warmer than this forest, it'd be a nice change," Jory dryly retorts. He's right too; it's cooled down considerably in the past few hours.

"You know, it surprises me you're not ogling her like you've done me all this time." I point to the witch walking a few yards ahead of us. "Have you no eyes? Look at her! She's _gorgeous_!"

Daveth stops pawing himself and eyes me with interest. "I didn't know you went both ways."

"Both ways? Oh, _those_ ways. Well, I kissed my best friend and I liked it, but that's all I've done with another girl." Daniela. I miss her too. How would she be doing? Would she be up for her Harrowing yet?

"What did she look like?" Now he's looking at me with even more interest. Heh, men.

"A little taller than me, slim, pretty, short blonde hair and blue eyes." I miss seeing the sparkle in those eyes whenever we were talking about shoes and pretty clothes and boys.

His voice sounds dreamy. "Heh, I can just imagine you two passionately kissing, robes falling to the floor, breasts being…"

I punch his shoulder. "I said we just kissed, you fool. She wanted to teach me how."

"Hey, can't a man fantasize?" He rubs his shoulder with a feigned expression of pain. "You know, I bet I could teach you even better."

"That's quite all right, thank you. I've had plenty of practice since." I remember the first time Cullen took me in his arms and kissed me, how butterflies fluttered rampantly in my stomach, how my skin was on fire. His lips were so soft, his tongue so gentle. Ah.

Daveth gasps. "Watch out for that…" I crash painfully into something big and rough, falling onto the ground. All the air is knocked out of my lungs. Ow! Note to self: no daydreaming while walking in a forest, lest you slam into a… "Tree," he finishes his sentence. He kneels next to me. "Are you all right?"

"Ooh, pretty stars." My vision is filled with bright white spots. It's quite nice really, apart from the fact that my head now hurts too. I officially no longer love the outdoors. The stars clear out of my vision, revealing a handsome face hovering over me. I lay a hand on his cheek. "Your eyes are so pretty!"

"You hit your head really hard, didn't you?" His voice sounds both amused and worried at the same time. I suppose I did hit my head hard. Thinking hurts a little. Ah, but I know a bit of healing magic. There, that should do it. Why am I touching Daveth again? See, I must've damaged my brain.

Ever the gentleman, he helps me back up. Now, if we assess the results, you shall see that so far I've tripped over six (6) protruding tree roots, been smacked in the face with eight (8) branches, stubbed my toe three (3) times on a rock and crashed into one (1) tree. Let's not add to this, Astoreth.

"Thank you." I'm still a little off-balance from my run-in with the tree. "Mind if I lean on you?" I don't want to risk falling every few steps. This is taking long enough as it is.

"I'll raise you one better." He turns his back to me and bends his knees. "Hop on."

I stare at him in disbelief. "You want to carry me?" Well, not that I would mind not walking.

"Yes. Hurry, before we lose the others." He impatiently looks back at me. I shrug and climb onto his back, closing my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He hooks his elbows under my knees to keep me in place. I like it up here. My feet feel better just not touching the ground. "All right, off we go." He takes on a jogging pace to keep up with the others. Such ease, as if I don't weigh very much. He must be strong.

I rest my head against the crook of his neck. His scent is nice; I cannot describe it as anything other than 'masculine' I guess. "Thank you, for carrying me." In a reflex I kiss him below the ear. What, are you stupid?

He tenses ever so briefly. "My pleasure." His voice is barely audible. I should stop tempting him. Bad, bad girl! Oh, I'm a bit sleepy. It won't hurt if I close my eyes for a moment.

"Are you her manservant now?" I vaguely hear Alistair say.

"Look at her. Can you blame me?" The reply comes from very nearby. I'm just going to take a little nap until we get to Morrigan's mother.


	26. Ostagar - Clumsy Idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eep! More Witches of the Wilds!

### Ostagar - Clumsy Idiot

"Hey, wake up." I don't want to wake up. "Come on, doll, open your eyes. We're here."

Here? Here where? I open my eyes and raise my arms to stretch my stiff upper body. Bad idea. I tumble backwards and my head hits the ground. I groan. "I'm such an idiot!" No falling asleep when you're hitching a ride on someone's back. You'll forget where you are. Daveth lets go of my legs.

"Not an idiot, just really clumsy." Yet again he kneels down next to me and brushes some stray hairs from my face. He sighs and shakes his head, a smile on his lips. I'm just glad I didn't land on a rock.

"Wow, you're worse than I am," Alistair says from somewhere above me. "How many times have you fallen over today, exactly?"

"I think… eight times, give or take." I sit up. "Give me a break; I'm not the outdoorsy type."

"'Tis obvious you are not," Morrigan says with a barely contained giggle in her voice. She must think me very silly. I am, so what? She motions us to follow her and I get onto my feet. There's a little hut here, in the middle of the Wilds. Her mother must be insane to want to live here. That old woman in the tattered dress with the wild-looking grey hair must be her. Morrigan greets her. "Greetings, Mother. I bring before you four Grey Wardens, who…"

"I see them, girl," the crone cuts her off.

"She's a witch, I tell you!" Daveth is back to his old fidgeting. "We shouldn't be talking to her!" I grab a hold of his hand in an attempt to calm him down. His brow furrows in confusion, then he threads his fingers through mine. This feels… familiar. Cullen would sometimes hold my hand in such a manner.

"Quiet, Daveth!" Jory barks. "If she's really a witch, do you want to make her mad?"

The old woman scoffs. "Believe what you will." She turns her gaze to me. Unlike her daughter's, her eyes have a regular colour, a warm brown. "And what of you? Does your woman's mind give you a different viewpoint? Or do you believe as these boys do?" Her voice is quite pleasant.

I quietly mull that over. "I'm not really sure what to believe," I reply in all honesty.

"A statement that possesses more wisdom than it implies. Be always aware… or is it oblivious? I can never remember," she says cryptically. That sounded a bit crazy.

"So this is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?" Alistair says in disbelief. It would appear only he and I aren't afraid of these two women.

"Witch of the Wilds, eh? Morrigan must have told you that." With laughter in her voice, she continues: "She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it! Oh, how she dances under the moon!" The laughter's now turned into a cackle. Creepy.

Morrigan has an exasperated look on her face. She must be used to this kind of behaviour. "They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother."

"True, they came for their treaties, yes?" A few rolled up documents appear in her withered hand. Where did she conjure them from? "And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these."

"You!" Alistair begins in an angry voice. "Oh, you protected them?" He sounds surprised.

"And why not?" Morrigan's mother responds. "Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight's threat is greater than they realize!" Ooh, ominous.

"Thank you for returning the treaties," I say. If she's been protecting them for a long time, she deserves our thanks.

"Such manners! Always in the last place you look. Like stockings!" Another cryptic statement. We all must look rather puzzled because the old woman giggles and adds: "Oh, don't mind me. You have what you came for!" With that, she opens the door to her hut and goes inside. This is has been a strange encounter on so many levels.

"Very well, I will show you out of the woods," Morrigan says reluctantly. "Follow me."

I hang my head. More walking. Nooooooooooo…!


	27. Ostagar - A Cup of Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we come to the Joining.

### Ostagar - A Cup of Blood

Argh, my feet are worn down to little stumps. Well, not really, but it sure feels that way. I went to see the mabari again; he was sleeping. Such an adorable creature. I can't wait to see him out and about again. The chest I have a key for was unguarded, so I removed all of its contents. I got a new staff and an enchanted cowl that I won't wear because my vanity forbids it, some money and a few lyrium potions. I try to avoid taking lyrium, but sometimes you just run out of mana and have no choice.

We made a killing selling most of the stuff we found in the Wilds. The quartermaster was even kind enough to give me a few silvers for my old, hideous, stiff-with-blood robes. And he kept staring at my chest, as most of the soldiers we passed by. So sad these men don't get to see many women. Each camp should have a brothel, or something. Maybe Daveth would leave me alone then. Even now he's still ogling me from time to time. Well, it's not like I don't look at him. He's a handsome lad, I can't deny it.

Right now we're waiting until Duncan's done preparing for the Joining ritual. I'm curious to see what it entails, but I think it involves the darkspawn blood. Maybe we're supposed to drink it, or draw pictures with it, or rub it on each other. I would rather like that last one, ha-ha.

Jory's having doubts again and Daveth's trying to calm him, but I can see that it doesn't work. Sometimes I wonder why he is here, why he didn't just stay home with his family. I know I would've, had I had a choice. To think I could be in bed with Cullen right now, instead of out here.

"At last we come to the Joining," Duncan suddenly speaks, a silver chalice in his hands. It would appear we are finally ready. I can feel a speech coming on. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint." See, I knew it.

"We're... going to drink the blood of those... those creatures?" Jory sounds very unhappy, scared even.

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. _This_ is the source of our power and our victory," Duncan explains. "Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint."

Damn, I knew it was dangerous, but potentially _fatal_? I don't like that much. The other words Duncan speaks fail to register in my mind. This could kill me, or even all three of us? I had no idea. Kind of crappy if the last thing I get to taste before death is darkspawn blood. I catch Daveth staring at me. I stare right back. He looks as shocked as I probably do, his eyes full of fear. I feel sorry for him. Actually, I feel sorry for all of us.

"Daveth, step forward," Duncan says solemnly, presenting the chalice to him. Oh dear, it would seem my favourite thief (not a difficult to obtain position since he's the only one I know) is up first. His eyes shift to Duncan and then back to me.

"Just a moment," he says, a quiver in his voice. He closes the distance between us with one giant step, takes me in his arms and kisses me, all in a matter of seconds. His lips are burning against mine, igniting a fire under my skin. His tongue is frantically wriggling against my lips to gain access to my mouth. The urge to have my way with him is back with a vengeance. Screw this; we could be dead by the end of today. I open my mouth and his tongue slips in, fiercely playing with mine. I can't help but moan; I'm getting so wet I'll start leaving puddles soon. Sadly he lets go of me after a while.

"Damn you." I sink my teeth into his lower lip. "You know I'll kill you if you survive your Joining, right?"

"No, you won't." He smiles and strokes my cheek. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck." I blow him a kiss and he pretends to catch it, stuffing it into his pocket. Cute.

"Come on, Daveth, while we're still young," Alistair says, rolling his eyes.

After a last longing look in my direction, Daveth accepts the chalice with the offending beverage from Duncan. He looks at it, takes a deep breath and quickly drains it before handing it back. Well, everything seems fi-… Uh oh. I don't think I've ever heard anyone scream as loud and filled with pain, swaying around in every direction. And then he goes limp and falls to the ground.

"I am sorry, Daveth," Duncan says with immense regret in his voice. Sorry? Sorry for what? Surely he's only… Oh no. Please no. Could he be…?

I sit down next to him and nudge him. "Daveth?" No response. He's as limp as a ragdoll and beginning to turn cold already. I drag him into an upward position and cradle the poor thing to my chest. Now I actually regret not sleeping with him. I mean, who knows when the last time was he had some? And he was so young too. I think. Surely too young to die, at any rate. The light is gone from his amber eyes so I close them, caress his still face. This is so unfair. And where are those drops on him coming from? Oh, I'm doing that. I didn't realize I was crying. I suppose I really care about him.

Suddenly there's a kind of death gurgle to my left. I see Jory lying in a pool of blood, presumably his own. What the… What just happened? Did the taint do that? Eh, I guess not, since Duncan is cleaning blood off his short sword. What? Why? _Huh_?

Well, I suppose that only leaves me now. I carefully lay the cooling body in my arms down and get up to accept the blood Duncan hands me. Ieh, it smells foul. And the taste is no better; it's like metal mixed with mud and bile. I give the chalice back to Duncan and smack my lips. Yuck. And then pain hits me. It's the worst pain I've ever felt, dulling all my other senses. A loud scream is ringing in my ears. It has to be me, although it doesn't feel so. Everything goes black.

Oh wow, I think I just saw my brain. It's not pretty. I think I'll just… pass out now. Yeah.

~*|'-'|*~

A dragon. While I was passed out, I saw a dragon. A big, mean, black dragon. Could this be the archdemon? And more darkspawn than I'd ever wish to see. Maybe I should open my eyes. It's still dark out, so I haven't been out for long. Duncan and Alistair are staring down on me, their faces grave.

"It is finished. Welcome," the former says. I guess I'm a real Grey Warden now. Uhm, yippee?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the Ostagar portion, but there is more.


	28. Lothering - Blowing off Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our adventurers finally arrive in the most exciting village of Lothering.

### Lothering - Blowing off Steam

Our way is blocked by many boxes and overturned carts. Among them are several men, diligently scavenging what they can. "Wake up, gentlemen! More travellers to attend to," one of them speaks in a jovial voice as he approaches us. "I'd guess the pretty one is the leader." I thought he meant Morrigan, but he looks straight at me. Guess I'm the pretty one then.

Another joins the first speaker. "Er, they don't look like them others, you know." Well, he doesn't sound very bright. And that's putting it mildly. "Uh... maybe we should let these ones pass..."

"Nonsense!" Mister Jovial grins widely. "Greetings, travellers!"

"Highwaymen," Alistair mutters behind me.

I promptly whack the eloquent one on the head with my staff. "I don't need this crap from you right now!" When he screams and grabs his head, I whack him again. "I'm hungry, tired and cranky, so do you really want to mess with me? _Well, do you_?" Whack, whack, whack! Great fun!

"What are you all standing around for?" the man screams at his lackeys. "Get this crazy woman away from me!"

The four or so fools come running to help their leader. Oh, they have no idea who they're dealing with. Time to let off some steam.

~*|'-'|*~

"Ah, Lothering. Pretty as a painting," Alistair says, gesturing at the village before us. Those idiots were easily despatched. And by despatched I mean killed. Useless bastards, preying on fugitives. They deserved what they got. My fellow Warden sounds a little better than he did before. It was Morrigan's idea to come to this village.

After the Joining, I was asked to join some meeting with the king and his father-in-law, Teyrn Loghain. While the other Grey Wardens were going to ride into battle, Alistair and I were stuck with lighting a beacon in the Tower of Ishal to signal the teyrn's troops to join the fray. Of course there was much whining from Alistair, who desperately wanted to fight too. Eventually, we got to fight more than at least I bargained for.

The Tower was overrun with darkspawn and at the very top, an ogre awaited us. Yes, an ogre. A big, mean, drooling ogre. I nearly got killed fighting it, but I kept going despite the injuries because somehow it felt like someone was cheering me on. The tainted blood must've made me crazier than I already was. Anyway, we lit the beacon and were subsequently overwhelmed by more darkspawn.

Then I woke up in that hut in the Wilds, with Morrigan keeping me company. She told me the teyrn had abandoned the field and that the king and his troops, including the Wardens, were slaughtered. Apparently her mother had saved us and healed our wounds. Of course, being as attached to Duncan as Alistair was, he took the news of his death very badly. Poor thing. I wanted to try and comfort him, but with Morrigan present... She would only make suggestive comments about us and we'd all start fighting, and people would die, we'd get in trouble and so on.

Can you imagine that Alistair and I are the only Grey Wardens left in all of Ferelden? I'd say this country is doomed. But we still have those treaties and we will use them to raise an army and get rid of this pesky Blight. Even Morrigan's mother, who turned out to be none other than the legendary Flemeth (or so the crazy old bat claims), thought it was important and gave us Morrigan. Yes, she gave her daughter to us as if she was gifting us with new shoes or something.

I swear, the constant bickering that's going on between her and Alistair will drive me insane someday. Those two can't stand each other. Actually, our lovely witch can't stand me either. If it weren't for her good looks, she wouldn't have much going for her. Apart from her gift of magic, of course. The girl's never been part of the Circle, being an apostate and all. Just wild and free in the Korcari Wilds. I think I actually like the tower better than the Wilds, but that might just be me.

On the way to Lothering, I met a familiar face. It was the dog that I helped cure back at Ostagar. I think he remembers me. He even insisted on coming with us, earning me some complaining from Morrigan (I often think of her as Witch of the Whines, ha-ha). I named him Stubbs on account of his stubby little tail and he seems to like it. At least, he barked happily and wagged his tail. Since then he's been bringing me gifts, of sorts. The first present was a damaged old cake with dog drool stuck to it. I gave it to Alistair who actually was quite happy with it for some unknown reason. Maybe he likes dog drool? Then he brought me a pair of muddy pantaloons and some things that were actually quite useful, like herbs. Stubbs likes cuddling with me too, such a good boy.

And now we're here in Lothering to stock up on supplies and rest. But first, we should make up our minds of where to start searching for allies. Alistair suggested we go see Arl Eamon of Redcliffe, the man who took him in when his mother died and still has all his soldiers, since he was too late to join the battle at Ostagar. It felt like I was being zapped when I saw one of the treaties was for the Circle. This means I might be able to see Cullen again. Scratch that 'might', I will see him again even if I have to kick, swear and scream to make it happen.

But beforehand though, we will go to Redcliffe. It's slightly closer to here than the tower is, so it makes sense. Besides, I have a little problem I have to get sorted out, but I should ask Morrigan about it. She seems wise.

~*|'-'|*~

Great, there isn't any room for us anywhere. The entire village is crammed with refugees, the local Chantry is full to bursting and don't even get me started on the bloody inn. We got attacked almost as soon as we walked in by some of Loghain's soldiers. As it turns out, the Grey Wardens have been branded traitors by that scum bucket of a man. I've never really been very fond of him, but now I despise him. He fooled everyone by saying something about us betraying the king and getting killed in the process. Come now, what kind of betrayal would _that_ be?

Clearly Loghain's own men believe that nonsense. A Chantry sister, a red-haired beauty with a delightful Orlesian accent, tried to stop them from attacking us, but joined us in the fight when it started. I had no idea sisters could handle blades like that. Then again, Lily wasn't exactly defenceless either. Poor Lily. Anyway, we didn't kill those soldiers, just beat them into a bloody pulp and sent them away with a message to Loghain. You know, the usual: we know what you did and we're coming for you. The innkeeper didn't even mind the bloodstains much; he was just glad to be rid of the pests.

The sister (lay sister; no idea what that means) who introduced herself as Leliana, recognized us as Wardens and wanted to join us. She said the Maker told her to. Although that would normally make me back away slowly before breaking into a sprint (and Alistair agrees with me on that), how could we refuse someone who wields her daggers so expertly? And even better, maybe she could give me some advice on how to live without any carnal pleasures. Barring self-induced pleasures, of course. After all, these priestesses are supposed to stay celibate. But I think such a personal topic should wait until later. You can't spring such questions on someone you've only just met.


	29. Lothering - About Duncan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grey Wardens sit down for a serious chat.

### Lothering - About Duncan

"So Alistair, I was thinking you might want to talk about Duncan." I look at my fellow Warden from the corner of my eye as we're sitting on the floor of the inn. There's not a table left for us to sit at. Morrigan and Leliana are out doing something else, because I asked them to leave us alone. The witch even dared to make some suggestive comment about us. Humph, the nerve.

"No." He looks and sounds as gloomy as ever, staring at his hands.

"Come on, you might feel better." I get a little closer to him and wrap my arm around his shoulders. First he freezes, but then gives in and rests his head against my shoulder.

"You don't have to do that. I know you didn't know him as long as I did." He utters a long-drawn sigh. Stubbs, whose head is resting on my thigh, whines softly. I pat his strong back, making him pant happily.

"So? That doesn't mean I didn't care about him. He saved me, you know. Without him I could've been dead as a doornail." I fail to suppress a shudder. "Or imprisoned in Aeonar."

"What was it you did again? You helped a mage escape the Circle, was it?" It would seem my colleague's sadness is temporarily replaced with curiosity. Good.

"Yes, well, my friend asked me to help him and his girl escape. She was going to take vows of chastity for the Chantry and he was to be made Tranquil. So off we went to destroy his phylactery, but we got caught. And then he revealed his true colours." I pause. Thinking of this kind of takes me back. I miss Jowan; he's been my friend for most of my life. What would he be doing right now? I hope he's all right.

"That sounds rather ominous," Alistair says with eagerness in his voice.

"Turns out my friend had been dabbling in blood magic. He used it to incapacitate the ones that caught us and fled on his own when his girl wouldn't have anything to do with him anymore." Stubbs whines again. He's so smart; he can even tell by the sound of my voice how I feel. I dig a treat from my pocket and give it to him. He chews it contently.

"And you had no idea?" His body is rigid once again, his voice a little harsh. That must be the former novice templar still lurking in him. He often expresses some distrust against apostates like Morrigan (could be because she's a cold-hearted bitch though), but I never sensed any when it came to myself. Maybe it's because we're the only Wardens left here and he has no choice but to trust me, or I made a very good impression. Let's hope it's the latter.

"No, none whatsoever. I asked him time and time again, but he denied. And I believed him. He was my only friend, you know; I thought I could trust him." I sigh and pat my dog's head when he looks at me inquisitively.

"I see." He relaxes. From the tone of his voice I can tell he believes me, but disagrees with what I did. Well, he can disagree all he wants, nothing can be done about it now, can it?

"But we weren't talking about my stupidity. Please, tell me how you feel about Duncan's death." I lean my head against his. His hair tickles a little.

"I…" he falters and sighs, "should've handled it better. Duncan warned me right from the beginning that this could happen. Any of us could die in battle." Yes, how could I forget? "I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us, not with the Blight and… and everything. I'm sorry." He sounds close to tears. On the way to Lothering he was very quiet, very moody. He only opened his mouth to return hateful comments from Morrigan. And to welcome the dog when it came to us.

"No, don't be. I understand." I give his shoulder a little squeeze. He feels firm. Nice.

"I'd like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe once all this is done, if we're still alive. I don't think he had any family to speak of." Now Stubbs has moved to sit next to Alistair, nudging him with his massive head. The Warden absently pets him.

"He had you." I find it hard to believe Duncan wasn't as fond of Alistair as vice versa. The guy kind of grows on you, you know? I've only known him for a short time and already like him very much. In a friendly, non-sexual way. At least that's what I tell myself.

"I suppose he did. It probably sounds stupid, but part of me wishes I was with him in the battle. I feel like I abandoned him." He sighs yet again.

"It doesn't sound stupid, but he actually saved your life by sending you to the Tower." I stroke his cheek tentatively. I'm glad he doesn't seem to mind.

"I know. Duncan said he came from Highever. Maybe I'll go there sometime, putting up something in his honour." His voice sounds less sad. Talking often helps. "Have you… had someone close to you die?" he suddenly asks. "Not that I mean to pry, I'm just…" Nervous silence.

"I've never had many people close to me, truth be told. I don't even know where I'm from. The Circle took me in when I was very young." Maybe one day I'll find out more about my heritage. Or not.

"That must've felt a lot like when I got sent to the Chantry. You mages don't even get a say in the matter, after all." He lifts his head from its resting place and smiles at me. "Thank you. Really, I mean it. It was good to talk about it, at least a little."

I return his smile. "Sure, anytime. If you need to talk, just say the word."

"So isn't there anything _you_ would like to talk about?" This time he wraps his arm around my shoulders and I lean against him.

"Like what? Shoes, cute boys?" I'm not really in the mood for such banter.

"I meant Daveth. What did you two have going on?" He sounds both curious and concerned. I try to avoid thinking of him. It hurts a little, frankly. Guess I have somewhat of a soft spot for him.

"Not much really. I still can't believe he and Jory are dead. What happened to the knight anyway?" After the Joining had been over with, I was too afraid to ask and then I'd simply forgotten to.

"He refused to drink the tainted blood. Said something about how it was too much and that there was no honour in it. He drew his sword and attacked Duncan, Duncan killed him. We must preserve our secrets," Alistair explains tersely.

"That seems strange. When I spoke with him the night we spent in the Wilds, he seemed so sure of wanting to do his part for this country." This hardly makes any sense. If he'd taken that drink, chances were he'd still been alive and able to see his wife and child. He was so anxious to return to them too. Did Jory hit his head when I wasn't looking, or something? I wonder how Helena and her child are doing. As well as can be expected, I hope.

"But you and Daveth... You spent a night with him tucked into a bedroll, he nearly…" He coughs uncomfortably, "assaulted you and you even let him kiss you in the end." Stubbs raises his head and looks at me in what looks like disbelief. Unbelievable how smart mabari are. "Surely you had _something_ going on."

"I said it wasn't much, not that it was nothing. He wanted to uhm, lie with me and I…" I hesitate. Somehow I don't think Alistair has much experience in the bedroom, much less do I know whether he wants to hear me talk about my feelings like this.

"Yes?" All right, he clearly does want to hear me talk about my feelings like this.

"Honestly, I wanted to ride him until it _hurt_. But..."

Alistair winces. "Too much information!"

I giggle at his reaction. "Sorry. But I just couldn't. I love my Cullen too much to betray him like that." Soon I will see him again, soon.

"I see. Quite the dilemma. So, Cullen huh? A mage you're in love with from the tower?" Now he sounds like he wants to gossip.

"Uhm, yes." I can't tell him the truth just yet. How would he react to our scandalous affair? "He gave me this ring, see?" I show him my hand.

"Ooh, pretty. Are those garnets?"

I nod. "Yes. I had a necklace with a garnet pendant, not unlike the one with the tainted blood you gave me after the Joining." I twiddle the pendant resting just above my breasts between my fingers. "Anyway, I gave him that. I hope he's still wearing it." I sigh. Surely he'll still have it around his neck, tucked underneath his armour, resting on his chest. I wish I could touch him right now. All I can think of is wrapping my lips around his member to make him moan and whisper my name; to lie in bed with him, making love for hours and to finish it all up with a good long cuddling session. Thinking of him makes my heart ache. Time to change the subject a little. "Want to hear something really weird?"

"Yes, what?" Both Alistair and Stubbs are looking at me expectantly. Well, at least I know my dog won't tell on me.

"I've so gotten used to Daveth's constant ogling that it still feels as if I have his eyes on me all the time. Creepy, right?" It may sound like some kind of joke, but it's not. Unnerving is what it is.

He shudders. "Very creepy. You must've cared about him a lot though, what with the way you cried and held him when the Joining proved fatal for him."

"That I did." Do still, actually. We sit in silence for a while, until I get sick of it. I move before Alistair and look into his eyes. "Thank you for letting me speak about it."

He smiles. "Of course. And now my curiosity is sated too."

"So uhm, you want some ale?" I let my coin purse jingle. There's enough money in there to get very, very drunk on.

"Yes, that would be great," he replies.

I get up to go to the barkeep. "Two ale, coming right up."


	30. Lothering - Drunken Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few frothing tankards of ale join the conversation.

### Lothering - Drunken Bonding

I keep forgetting I can't hold my liquor. Three tankards of ale and I'm already unable to keep my tongue in check. Thoughts come into my mind and fly out of my mouth right after. Alistair's not doing any better, with the constant silly giggling and the red cheeks. Awww… "You're so cute." See, I shouldn't be saying such things. "I like you." I'm glad I sent Stubbs away to spy on Morrigan; I don't want him to see his mistress acting like a drunken fool.

Alistair giggles again. "I like you too. You're kind of cute yourself, you know." He reaches over and musses up my hair.

I gasp. "No! Aw, now you ruined it." I uncoil my bun and try smoothing my hair down, but my hands won't cooperate and only make it worse. Instead I begin giggling, my hair a wild mess.

"Hey, you look pretty like that." His eyes move lower, his blush deepens. "I don't get to see these from up close very often." He pokes into my breasts with his finger. I haven't had a chance to buy robes that offer more coverage.

"No, bad Alistair!" I swat his hand away. "Morrigan always has her chest on display, you can look at her."

"I don't like her," he says with a slight pout. "She's mean."

I have to agree with that. "Yes, but you have to admit… She is a beautiful woman." If I looked like that, why, I would be _so_ happy.

Alistair shakes his head vehemently. "I don't care! She's mean. And those yellow eyes give me the creeps."

"So tell me…" I hiccup. Stupid ale. "Since you spent most of your life in a monastery, have you never…" I wiggle my eyebrows at him.

He giggles again. "Never what? Had a good pair of shoes?"

"Oh come on, you know what I mean. The eyebrow wiggling means I'm saying something suggestive, you know." I take another sip from my tankard. Maybe I should switch to coffee.

"I'm not sure I do." The twinkle in his eye tells me he's joking. "Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham?" Another giggle fit ensues. "Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

"Aw, now you're just being mean. Stop making fun of meee…" I sniffle. I can joke too, you know.

"Make fun of you? Never. Well, tell me: have _you_ ever licked a lamppost in winter?" He eyes me expectantly.

I raise an eyebrow and pinch the guy's red cheeks. "Why would I want to lick a…? Oh, we're not talking about actual metal lampposts, are we?" I laugh. "It wasn't winter, but why yes, I _have_ licked a lamppost. Licked it, sucked it, played with its…" I get far too candid when drunk. "Hmm, what's a good metaphor for testicles?"

Alistair raises his hands. "No, no, I don't want to know all that! You give me too much information."

"I know. Can't be subtle when I'm drunk. So have you ever had sex?" These euphemisms are getting on my nerves. Penises should not be compared to mundane things like lampposts. They should be called... uhm, I don't know, rods of pure plea... Ew. Never mind, that's even worse.

"No, never. Not that I haven't thought about it…" His face turns pensive and even redder. It would appear he's thinking about it right now. Suddenly he turns in my direction and plunges his face between my breasts without warning. He is glowing with heat.

"Heeey! What do you think you're doing?" I slap him on the back of the head, but it doesn't help.

"My face wanted to know what they feel like." His words sound muffled as he rubs his face against my chest. The stubble on his chin is a bit prickly. I have to admit feeling him against me doesn't leave me completely unaffected.

"Ah. And what does your face think of them then?" I run my fingers through his hair. He obviously takes care of it very well.

"I want a pillow that feels just like this." His voice has a rather content tone to it. Men and breasts, heh. Just like the time when Daveth saw them and went all goofy. But let's not think about that.

"You know what, if you're a good boy and get your face out of there, I'll let you rest your head against them as often as you want. This just makes me… uncomfortable." It would appear I've sobered up a little; otherwise I would've just said it was making me horny. I shouldn't be thinking of Alistair this way. Sure, he's cute and all, but I'm already taken _and_ we're supposed to be working together. Do I have a templar fetish or something? Probably.

"Aw, okay. You can sit on my lap then." He stretches out his legs and pats his thigh. Oh why not. I sit on his lap and wrap my arm around his shoulders. My companion rests his head against my chest with a sigh of contentment, his arms around my waist. This is quite comfortable, actually.

"So, do you have any Grey Warden anecdotes you'd like to share with me?" Anything to distract me from thinking of the act. Maker's breath, he's still a virgin. Kind of exciting if you ask me. So much potential.

"I didn't know them for very long, but longer than you I guess. You never met all of them, did you?" He utters some kind of longing sigh. "They were quite a group. Actually, they felt like an extended family, since we were all cut off from our former lives." This reminds me of the Circle; all people who were more or less forced to leave their old lives. This one guy at the tower loves his old life so much, he keeps trying to escape. And succeeding too, though he never stays hidden for long: with the possession of your phylactery, finding you is a breeze.

"We also laughed more than you'd think," he continues. "There was this one time… Well, you probably don't want to hear stories about men you didn't know."

"Of course I do. Men are fascinating." I've heard they behave differently when there are no women present.

Alistair giggles against my chest. "Okay. There was this one Grey Warden from the Anderfels, Gregor I think. He was a burly man with the biggest, fuzziest beard you've ever seen." He briefly laughs at the memory. "And the man could _drink_. He drank all the time but never got drunk. Finally we all made a pool just to see how many pints it would take to put him under the table. But we never did find out. He said he'd drink a pint for every half-pint the rest of us drank; he was still going by the time the rest of us were passed out." Another half-suppressed giggle. "I'm told that Duncan walked in later on and saw us all passed out from one end of the hall to the other, and Gregor still drinking. Duncan laughed until he nearly…" His voice is sad once again. "Until…" There are barely contained tears in that single word.

"It's okay, you can cry if you want to." I caress his face in a way I hope feels soothing. Soon I feel hot tears trickling onto my chest.

"I really miss him," Alistair hiccups, "he didn't deserve to die the way he did." His grip around my waist tightens considerably.

"I know, my friend, I know. I understand." I keep quiet until his tears have stopped and only dry sobs come out of him.

"It just struck me that I have nothing to remember Duncan by. Nothing at all. There's no body, not even a token I could take with me. I just would've liked something of his to take with me." His voice is thick with grief. Poor thing.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to make do with your memories of him. But you know what, when you go to Highever in Duncan's honour, I'll go with you. How does that sound?" I plant a kiss on the top of his head.

"I'd like that. So would he, I think." He lets go of me and raises his head to show me a faint smile. I wipe the tears from his face. "Thank you. I mean it. You've been such a good friend to me, comforting me when I'm acting like a blubbering fool." He sniffles. "And we've only known each other for such a short time. Believe me, I usually let a few months pass before breaking down into a little pile of misery."

"Do you feel a little better?"

He nods and gathers me up into a hug again. It would seem I have made myself a new friend.


	31. Lothering - A Giant in a Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth and co. gain a new ally.

### Lothering - A Giant in a Cage

"A touching scene," Morrigan says in an amused voice. I stare at her vacantly before remembering I'm sitting on Alistair's lap, safely wrapped in his arms. Naturally she would say such a thing, her words practically dripping with irony.

Leliana just giggles girlishly. "I think it's cute."

"Bite me, Morrigan." I stick out my tongue.

In response she flashes a pearly white canine and runs her tongue along it. "Well, if you insist…"

"For crying out loud, it is only an expression." I have no doubts the woman would take a serious chunk out of me if I let her. Alistair and I let go of one another and get up from the floor.

"I know. I am capable of humour, you know." She chuckles dryly.

"No, you're not," Alistair retorts. The two immediately begin bickering.

"Morrigan and I discovered something you might want to see," Leliana tells me. Stubbs is following her around adoringly; obviously he's fallen in love with the pretty priestess. Her radiant blue eyes remind me of Daniela's.

"What might that be?" I smile at her. She seems very nice. And that accent! I really enjoy listening to it. Love listening to it, even.

"Just outside the village there is someone locked in a cage. A Qunari. The Chantry put him in there because he committed a crime and has not fed him since. Quite terrible, no? He looks very able; perhaps he can help rid Ferelden of the Blight?" Her voice is grave and her suggestion valid.

"Sure, we need all the help we can get. Do you think the Revered Mother will let him out?" What crime would this Qunari have committed to be starved in a cage? I doubt he only stole some bread.

"If we convince her we need him, of course she will," Leliana says confidently. "I hope this does not offend you, but you look lovely with your hair down. You should wear it like this more often."

"Why, thank you." It's been a while since I got a compliment from someone, apart from Alistair's drunken babbling and maybe all the men staring at my chest. "But with all the fighting we do, it's better to wear it in my good old bun." With that I quickly smooth my hair down, coil it and fasten it with a few pins from the pouch that dangles from my hip. Leliana nods in understanding.

"Oh lovebirds, we will be making a trip to the Chantry. You are both welcome to join us," I address Morrigan and Alistair.

The latter looks at me with an expression of disgust on his face. "I would sooner fall in love with your dog." Stubbs grunts in disdain. It would appear he doesn't like the idea of starting a love affair with Alistair.

Morrigan's expression mirrors Alistair's. "Oh no, perish the thought. I would sooner dance in the village square unclad." Now that is something I would like to see. And many others with me. "In any case, I shall stay here."

And so Leliana, Alistair, Stubbs and I go off to speak with the Revered Mother.

~*|'-'|*~

Well, that was easy. All I had to say was that the Grey Wardens needed the Qunari to help quell the Blight and the Revered Mother handed me the key to his cage. I think she was just glad to be rid of him. Probably the generous donation helped too. We received a blessing, which seemed to make Alistair and especially Leliana very happy.

I spent a little while talking to the rather attractive head templar of that Chantry. My, my, my. His skin was so dark it looked almost like my favourite treat, namely chocolate, kissable lips, neatly groomed hair. He's nowhere near as magnificent as my Cullen, but sexy nonetheless. It's a good thing I have such excellent self-control, or this templar fetish of mine could get me into a lot of trouble. In any case, this Ser Bryant confirmed that Loghain put a bounty on Grey Warden heads. This might prove troublesome in the time to come, but let's worry about that when we need to. Right now there are other matters to attend to.

So I'm staring up at this hulking giant of a man trapped in a cage, the tallest and broadest man I've ever laid eyes on. Granted, I'm small for a human, but still. Impressive height. Come to think of it, I've never actually seen a Qunari.

"You are not one of my captors," the giant says. "I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans. Leave me in peace." Why, he has a very pleasant voice.

"I'm not looking to be amused. Who are you?" I try not to sound too eager, but I'm just very interested. How intriguing this is!

"I am Sten of the Beresaad – the vanguard – of the Qunari peoples," he introduces himself.

I dip into a bow. "My name is Astoreth. Nice to meet you."

"You mock me," Sten scoffs. "Or you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands." Then he shrugs. "Though it matters little, now. I will die soon enough."

I pull out the key to his cage and dangle it in front of him. "Only if the darkspawn get you. You're coming with us."

But when I open the door, he doesn't move. "Why? What do you need of me?"

"I need your help against the Blight that threatens this land." Why is he being difficult? I'd jump at the chance to leave my cage.

"The Blight? Are you a Grey Warden then?" He sounds flabbergasted. What, should I get the title tattooed on my forehead or something? I nod. "Surprising. My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill… though I suppose not every legend is true." His voice sounds pensive.

"Hey!" I fold my arms before my chest and glare at him. I may not be the strongest or the most skilful, but I do all right for a mage. Usually. I push Alistair towards the cage. "Here, a Grey Warden with legendary strength and skill."

He raises his hand in greeting. "Uhm, nice to meet you? Never mind her, I'm not _that_ legendary." But I can tell from the tone of his voice that he is flattered.

"Very well," Sten gives in. "I will follow you into battle. In doing so I shall find my atonement." With that he steps out of his cage.

"Atonement? What for?" I forgot to ask him why he was caged in the first place. See, too impulsive. Just like the time I paralyzed… Argh, never mind.

"I have been convicted of murder. Have the villagers not spoken of this?" The casual way in which he replies to my question leaves me rather stumped. There is no emotion in the man's violet eyes.

"I… No. Who have you murdered?" I could just about kick myself. The look Alistair's giving me tells me he wants to kick me too. It's funny how Leliana doesn't seem to care. But it could just be that Stubbs is distracting her with his cute act.

"The people of a farmhold. Eight humans, in addition to the children," Sten replies in a matter-of-fact voice. Alistair looks like he wants to strangle me now.

"Uhm, is it too late to put you back in the cage?" Not that I want to, but my fellow Warden's opinion matters a lot to me and he doesn't seem to want a convicted murderer with us.

"I have spent my life in the vanguard, I know war. And your lands need all the help they can get," Sten states. True, true. I send a pleading look Alistair's way and he rolls his eyes, then seems to give in.

"Welcome aboard," he says reluctantly.

"Well, that's settled then." I leave them so Alistair can give Sten some food while I go speak to Morrigan about my little problem. Leliana is already throwing sticks Stubbs eagerly runs after to fetch. Ah, puppy love.


	32. Lothering - A Teeny Tiny Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth makes a discovery that could prove rather inconvenient.

### Lothering - A Teeny Tiny Problem

"Morrigan, may I have a word with you?"

The witch has found herself a table. The area around her is surprisingly free of people, in spite of how crowded the inn is. I don't even want to think about how she accomplished that. Let's hope nobody died.

"If you must," she replies flatly. Obviously she doesn't want to be here with us; only at the behest of her mother did she join.

I take a seat across from her. "I uhm…" Maker, this is embarrassing. Better get it over with quickly. "What does it mean if your monthly flows don't flow anymore?"

Morrigan's eyes grow wide with surprise. "I beg your pardon? Your menstrual cycle has stopped?" I nod, my face warm and probably very red. At first I thought my body had to get used to all the travelling, but now I'm not so sure anymore. "Since when is this?" Her voice is still surprised.

"I've never been very regular, but they should've started quite soon after I left the tower. So maybe, two months? Three perhaps." I can't believe it's already been so long since I've seen, felt, tasted Cullen. I miss him terribly.

"I see. Such an occurrence could have two causes. The most likely one is…" She pauses and looks at me critically.

"Don't leave me in suspense here, lady, please tell me," I beg her.

Morrigan shakes her head. "Have you also been feeling nauseous in the morning lately?" I nod. Would you just tell me already? "Then… You must be with child."

With… child? As in _pregnant_? I nearly fall off my chair in astonishment. "I… What? Huh? But how does one accomplish such a thing?"

"Do you not know? Have you never bedded a man?" Her eyebrows have nearly disappeared into her hairline. This is the most emotion I've ever seen Morrigan express.

"I have, several times, at that. So?" Damn it, I knew I should've paid more attention to the talks of the birds and the bees. But leave it to the Circle instructors to take something as wonderful as lovemaking and turn it into something utterly boring.

"When a man spends his seed inside you, surely you know where, chances are a child is conceived." She sighs in exasperation. "Really, has your Circle taught you nothing?"

"They tried, but I'm a very slow student." When it comes to things other than magic, that is. So… I am carrying a child, Cullen's child in me? That is… both wonderful and quite inconvenient at the same time, what with the Blight and all. You know, I couldn't be happier. I can just imagine myself with a baby in my arms, in a home with a lovely garden and…

"'Tis not the fool's child, I hope?" Morrigan interrupts my musings. Now she actually sounds concerned.

"What? No, no, I haven't even known Alistair this long and we've not been together in that sense." I swallow. My throat feels somewhat dry. "So what should I expect from now on?"

"I am told that pregnancy is quite an ordeal. Your stomach will grow, obviously, as will your breasts, and because of the weight your back might begin aching. You will become very moody, your ankles will swell, your appetite will increase…"

"My appetite is already ridiculous." The Joining did that for me. I eat, what, six times as much as I used to? Maybe even more. And my stomach rumbles almost constantly. I doubt it could get any worse.

Morrigan chuckles briefly. "Yes, I have noticed. But in short, you will be inconvenienced. If it would prove too difficult for you, I could brew you a potion that would terminate-…"

"No!" I wouldn't even consider murdering Cullen's child. But with all the battles we will see in the time to come, I might miscarry. I should try to be very, very careful. Let Alistair absorb every blow for me, that sort of thing.

"As you wish. Then might I inquire as to who the father is? Is it the handsome one who was with you the first time we met?" It would seem our Witch of the Wilds isn't too good to gossip.

I don't think Daveth would've stuck around if the baby had been his. Why does it still feel as if he's watching me? "No, I never bedded him. Care to guess again?"

She grimaces. "Not the older man with the large ears, is it?" Her expression gets me to burst out laughing.

"No, no. Ser Jory was a family man, and I wasn't part of that family. You have one guess left."

"'Tis most sad but I cannot think of any others. Do tell me." Her purple rimmed golden eyes are glittering with curiosity as she leans closer from across the table. Maybe she's not as bad as she sometimes seems to be. She's still only a young woman, probably not much older or younger than myself.

"In the tower I had a lover." Oh, but I wonder how he will react. The child of a templar and a mage, imagine that. I doubt it's _never_ happened before though.

"Ah, another mage then. Well, I am sure 'twill be a lovely child." Morrigan's crimson lips curve upward into a gentle smile. Wait, what?

"Thank you? That's the nicest thing I've heard you say so far." I look at her wide-eyed.

"I am not incapable of being friendly. And 'tis not you I despise, far from it." She utters a low, throaty chuckle. "When we first met, you were the only one who treated me with respect, unlike the boys you were travelling with. I took to you right away."

"Truly? I thought you hated me." This day has been full of surprises.

"No, not at all. Alistair puts me in such a terrible mood…" Her fist clenches tightly, the knuckles pale.

I lay my hand over hers. "Calm down."

"A touching scene," a familiar voice dripping with acid and sarcasm suddenly says. Alistair looks down on us with a scowl on his face. Sten and Leliana are standing right behind him, Stubbs sitting next to the sister like a good boy.

"Are you jealous?" Morrigan purrs. Her smile has turned sugary sweet and utterly fake. I can see how my fellow Warden tries to unsuccessfully suppress a shudder. I get up from the table.

"Alistair, I need to tell you something." My mind is looking for all kinds of opening lines to break the news to him, but can't seem to find any.

"You look serious. Are you all right?" He eyes me with concern.

I gesture him to follow me. "Sure, just come outside with me."

Behind me I hear Leliana gasp. "Are they having an affair? How scandalous!"

Sten scoffs. "Disgusting." Stubbs barks in agreement.

"Certainly not. She is far too intelligent for that fool," Morrigan replies smugly. I roll my eyes. She and Alistair will probably never get along.

~*|'-'|*~

Outside I pace around a while, feeling Alistair watching my every step. How do I tell him this? He is the one to break the silence. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

I take a deep breath. Just bite the bullet and plunge in headlong, Astoreth. You can do this. You do it all the time. "I uhm… Damn it."

Alistair stops me by laying his hands on my shoulders. "Take your time. You can tell me anything."

I am… touched. "Thank you. I…" Say it! "I'm pregnant."

Alistair stares at me vacantly for a moment, then slaps his fist to his palm. "I knew we should've used protection!" When I say nothing and pretty much stare at him in horror, he gulps. "You're serious."

"Of course, dummy. Why would I joke about that?" I shake my head.

"I will need some time to digest this. If you would hold on a moment." He begins pacing around in much the same way I was, making me nervous and causing me to pace about as well. When he halts, I nearly crash into him. "You know what? I will do anything I can to protect you and your baby," he says solemnly.

I sniffle. "Really?" My vision becomes blurry as my eyes fill with tears. Soon the floodgates open and they run down my face.

Gently he wipes my tears away. "Of course. I'm sure you would do the same for me, were I pregnant." He scratches his head. "And a woman."

"You're the best friend in the whole wide world ever." I tightly wrap my arms around his waist, bury my face in his chest. "I promise I'll protect you too if you get pregnant."

His laughter rumbles against my ear. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." His arms encircle my shoulders. You know, I like cuddling with him. Makes me feel all fuzzy and warm. When we let go, he looks at my stomach inquisitively. "You can't see a thing."

"Yet. In a few months, I'll be huge. A hulking monstrosity, making the ground quake with every step and…"

"Oh hush. I'm sure you will look lovely and radiant with that round belly." He smiles and caresses my cheek. His hand feels quite rough, reminds me of someone. "And your child will be as beautiful as you."

Beautiful? Me? "Er, if you say so." I can feel my mouth stretching into a wide grin as I think of Cullen. "You should get a load of the father. The most handsome man alive, I tell you."

"I take it you're talking about… What was his name again? Collin?" He chuckles. "You sound madly in love."

"I am. And it's Cullen." I stand on my toes to kiss my friend on the cheek. "I am glad to have your support. Thank you."

He shrugs. "That's what friends are for, right?" Laughing happily he wags his finger at me. "Just you wait until I hold you to that promise. I'll be most annoying, clamouring for pickles with whipped cream and foot massages... Speaking of which, is there anything you would like?"

I dig around in my mind. The only thing I would like right now is to have a man between my thighs. Boy, am I going to wear Cullen out when I see him again. "Uhm no, nothing in the food department I would like right now. But thank you."

"Something else then. A shoulder rub? Maybe I should do a silly dance for you?" He hops on one foot to the other, flailing his arms about wildly. I can't help but giggle at the scene before me. He looks like a chicken that's gone soft in the head.

"No, I'm fine. Really. Thank you." I look down at my chest. So these will be growing too? "I think I need some robes that cover me better. Or a cloak, or something. Maybe even a blanket."

Alistair stops his dance. "There is a merchant near the Chantry."

"Marvellous!" I can't wait to be rid of all the stares I seem to be getting.


	33. Lothering - Scared into Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair and Astoreth do some shopping.

### Lothering - Scared into Submission

We're just in time to witness the merchant giving a Chantry sister a mean shove. They have a few disgruntled refugees as onlookers. "Back off! I have the right to charge what I wish!" he yells.

"You profit from their misfortune! I should have the templars give away everything in your carts!" The priestess' voice has a sound of indignation mixed with despair. Maker, can't a person even shop in peace now? Damned vulture.

"You wouldn't dare!" The merchant's taken on a threatening pose. "Any of you step too close to my goods and I'll..."

"It's so nice to see everything working together in a crisis. Warms the heart," Alistair interrupts, his voice filled with sarcasm.

The merchant turns to us. "Ha, you there! You look able." Now I know he's talking about Alistair and not me. "Would you care to make a tiny profit helping a beleaguered businessman?"

I scoff. Businessman, sure. And I'm an Orlesian princess. "Is your profiteering ruffling a few feathers?"

"You could say that, yes," the trader replies.

"The nerve of these people!" Alistair bellows in fake indignation.

"He is charging outlandish prices for things people desperately need! Their blood is filling his pockets!" The sister's eyebrows are furrowed in worry and indignation.

"I have limited supplies." The merchant shrugs. "The people decide what those supplies are worth to them."

"Is that so?" I show the man an acrid smile. "These people are desperate, so they will spend their last coin on your supplies." I conjure a flame around my hand and let it flare up. "You will sell your goods at a reasonable price or I will set you on fire and distribute them for free myself."

The greedy bastard takes a hurried step back and raises his hands in a placating gesture. "Let's try to keep civil here." There's a slight quiver to his voice.

"Just charge what you would have before this tragedy," the priestess pleads.

"Fine, just stop complaining. You're giving me a headache." The merchant turns his gaze to me, a trace of fear in his eyes. I smother my flames.

"Thank you for your... generous assistance," the sister says hesitantly. Apparently I made a bad impression. Curse my impulsiveness! "May the Maker watch over your path." She turns to enter the Chantry.

"Think I did the right thing?" I ask Alistair in hushed tones.

"It could've gone better. But he kind of deserved it and at least he's no longer exploiting the despair that's so thick around here." He rubs his hands together. "Now let's do some shopping."

I watch him as he peruses the merchant's wares. Previously Daveth had me so occupied I hadn't noticed just how attractive Alistair really is. I catch the merchant watching me warily.

"Would you relax? I'm not going to set you on fire. I promise." I raise my hands. "I'll be good, really." I flash the man a wink and a pretty smile and his icy demeanour seems to warm a little. He shrugs and begins trying to fob off all kinds of goods to Alistair.

Now, back to our handsome Warden... I like the way his armour clings to his supposedly well-developed frame (I've never seen him without it). He has such a handsome, endearing face. And a virgin too... When it came to Daveth all I wanted to do was, pardon me, fuck him. Yes, I certainly know rude words, but hardly ever use them. It's fitting in this case though, because it's true.

But Alistair? I would be slow and gentle with him. At first. I can just picture him lying underneath me, blushing and moaning softly while I explore his body with my lips, with my tongue, with my hands... And then I would make him scream and squirm in pleasure, use him until we're both spent. What can I say? I may be human, but humans are animals too, no matter what some like to believe.

Of course he doesn't compare to my darling, no man ever could. After all, I don't truly love Alistair, no matter how cute and sweet he is. I like him as a friend and as a pretty thing I can feast my eyes on. It's strange to think of Cullen as the father of my unborn child. I don't even feel pregnant, although I've never been before, so I guess I wouldn't know how it feels. Those things Morrigan told me don't sound all that pleasant though. It will be a bumpy road, no doubt.

"Hey, come look at this!" Alistair gestures me to come closer. Triumphantly he holds up some fine robes, thick black cotton with red embroidery of vines and pretty swirly shapes, even a hood to cover my noggin when it rains or when I want to be all mysterious. They have fur shoulder-covering as well. And lo and behold: they cover the body from neck to ankles (apart from the keyhole that flashes just a tiny bit of breast), just like the apprentice robes I left behind. I might look like an evil cultist in these, but at least I will be a decently dressed evil cultist. The best part is that they hold the same enchantments as those atrocious yellow robes. Truth be told, they were better than the half-naked ones I'm wearing right now, but I'm very vain and they were stiff with blood anyway.

"These are lovely. How much?" I look at the merchant.

"Twenty silver for you, my lady," he replies meekly.

Only twenty? "Isn't that a bit..."

Alistair covers my mouth with his hand. "You've scared him into submission. Just take advantage of that and pay him already," he mumbles into my ear. Well, he is right...

I count out twenty pieces of silver and hand them over. "Here you are. Thank you."

"No, thank _you_." He quickly pockets the money, looking very anxious to be rid of me.

I nudge Alistair in the ribs. "Let's go." He nods and we return to the inn.

~*|'-'|*~

"Where shall we be going next?" Leliana asks.

"Yes, I am eager to be elsewhere." I can tell from the tone of Sten's voice that he's not joking.

We've not yet filled the newest members of our merry band in on our situation, so we tell them the story of how most of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden were slaughtered and we need to raise an army using the treaties we have. Alistair lets me do most of the talking; I'm afraid this reminds him of Duncan's death all too well. "So, the first stop we will make is in Redcliffe to see the arl," I conclude.

"The arl? But I hear he is ill; a few of his knights were in the Chantry. They were searching for Andraste's ashes to cure their master, because nothing else has been able to so far," Leliana says with a worried look on her face.

I turn to Alistair; his face has much the same expression as the sister's. "Didn't you say that Arl Eamon raised you?"

"Yes well, I'll tell you all about that when we're alone." His voice is harsh, frowning in irritation. I would like to ask more, but I think that will only serve to annoy him further.

I shrug. "Fair enough. We should get going quickly to see what's going on and if we can help."

"Agreed," Alistair replies curtly.

And on that note we all pack up and prepare to leave for Redcliffe.


	34. Lothering - Happy Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth finds out a tiny bit more about Alistair's past

### Lothering - Happy Now?

I bolt upright, sweating and panting like a dog. Curled up on the ground next to me, Stubbs raises his head and stares at me. A darkspawn nightmare, even worse than the one at my Joining. This time I witnessed an entire army of them in some dark place, lead by that black dragon I saw before. Imagine all of them coming to the surface to conquer the place. Scary stuff.

"Are you all right?" Alistair asks me from his place across the fire. We are camped between a copse of trees; before I tried to take a nap, I changed into my new robes behind a very large one. One thing I hadn't noticed about my new garments: the slit that runs from just below the hip all the way down along my right leg. My stocking is clearly visible, especially when I walk. But I shouldn't complain. I'm as snug as a bug in a rug, and that for a mere twenty silver! But wait, there is more! Just kidding. There isn't. "Was it a nightmare?"

"Yes. An army of darkspawn led by a black dragon. Is that the archdemon?" I wipe my forehead. My hand comes away very wet.

"It is, although I'm not sure it's really a dragon." Alistair gets up and sits down next to me, his arm wrapped around my shoulders. "How are you feeling? You know..."

I've not told any of the others of my condition yet. I figure they'll notice on their own and it's not something you tell people you've met only a day ago. "I feel fine. Thank you." What with the way Alistair treats me it's as if he fathered my baby himself. I look around to see what the others are doing. Sten is busily polishing the blade we found for him (strange how well-filled strongboxes are littered all over the place) and Leliana is occupied with scribbling on some parchment. Morrigan is always a distance away from us, keeping to herself, minding her own business. "So, about this Arl Eamon... Didn't he raise you?" I look beside me, into the handsome Warden's eyes.

"Did I say that? I meant I was raised by giant, slobbering dogs from the Anderfels. A whole pack of them, in fact." He snickers a little.

"Oh really? That must be why Stubbs likes you so." I grin at my friend. "He feels a connection with you." My dog barks in agreement and lays one of his massive paws on Alistair's leg, panting happily.

"Aw, who's a good puppy?" The Warden gushes, scratching Stubbs between the ears. My war hound is almost purring like a little kitten.

"But seriously, tell me or don't. Don't try to hide behind silly jokes." Normally I like his kind of humour, but when I try to talk to him seriously it bothers me a little.

"Well, all right then. You see, I'm a bastard." He raises an eyebrow and scowls. "And before you make any smart comments, I meant the fatherless kind."

I raise my hands. "I wasn't going to say anything." As if I'd ever think he was the mean person kind of bastard, with the way he treats me.

"Sure you weren't." He sticks out his tongue. Wasn't that my habit? "Anyway, my mother was a serving girl at Redcliffe castle who died when I was very young. Arl Eamon wasn't my father, but he took me in anyhow and put a roof over my head." A slight smile appears on his face. "He was good to me, and he didn't have to be. I respect the man and I don't blame him any more for sending me to the Chantry when I was old enough."

"Do you know who your father is then? I'm sorry, I don't want to pry, but since I don't know my own family..." Knowing more of where other people come from is a bit of a hobby of mine. Living vicariously through them and all that.

"No, that's all right. I do know, but it's not important." He gives my dog another pat on the head.

If he doesn't want to tell me who sired him, fine with me. "So why where you sent to the Chantry?"

"Arl Eamon eventually married a young woman from Orlais, which caused him all sorts of trouble with the king because it was so soon after the war. But he loved her." His look darkens. "Anyhow, the new arlessa resented the rumours which pegged me as his bastard. They weren't true, but of course they existed. The arl didn't care, but she did. So off I was packed to the nearest monastery at age ten. Just as well. The arlessa made sure the castle wasn't a home to me by that point. She despised me."

"How mean of her, to treat a little boy that way." His tale saddens me. I'm sure he didn't deserve to be treated in such a manner.

Alistair shrugs. "Maybe. She felt threatened by my presence, I see that now. I can't say I blame her. She wondered if the rumours were true herself, I bet." Now he sighs, the look on his face turning to one of sadness. "The only thing I had of my mother's was an amulet with Andraste's holy symbol on it. I was so furious at being sent away, I tore it off and threw it at the wall and it shattered." He shakes his head. "Stupid, stupid thing to do. The arl came by the monastery a few times to see how I was, but I was stubborn. I hated it there and blamed him for everything... and eventually he just stopped coming."

"Well, you were young." I'd probably have done the exact same thing, had this happened to me.

"And raised by dogs." Stubbs barks happily upon hearing this and licks Alistair's hand. "Or I might as well have been, the way I acted," he continues, vehemently wiping his hand on his pants. "But maybe all young bastards act like that, I don't know. That's all there is to my story. Happy now?"

I nod. "Yes." I like knowing more of my companions, especially if they seem interesting. Which reminds me that I should talk to Leliana and Sten more. I could try asking Morrigan things, but she seems rather uncommunicative, even if she said she likes me.

"At any rate, you should rest some more." Alistair lies back on my bedroll and opens his arms, a sweet smile on his lips, affection in his eyes. "Come here." Who am I to decline such an invitation? I snuggle up to him, resting my head on his chest. His arms embrace me, pulling me even closer to him. The steady drum of his heartbeat against my ear makes me so drowsy...


	35. Lothering - Bless My Filthy Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth has an interesting dream.

### Lothering - Bless My Filthy Mind

Hmm, where's Alistair? The warm body I was cuddled up against is gone. I sit up straight and rub my eyes. Where _is_ everyone?

"Ho there, friend!" a very cheerful voice says. I've heard it before. "Astoreth, wasn't it?"

Not very far away from me I spot a figure in golden armour. I carefully approach. "Your Majesty?"

"Ah, so you remember me," King Cailan chuckles. He shifts in the ornate chair he's sitting in. Another dream.

"Of course I do; you are the king of Ferelden." And quite dead. "What are you doing here anyway?"

The handsome man before me shrugs. "Not much." He pats his thigh, smiling rather charmingly. "Why don't you join me?"

"I er..." The deceased ruler of this country wants me to sit on his lap. How very, very bizarre. "Sure." Cailan curves an arm around my waist when I accept his invitation. This isn't exactly comfortable. Too much metal.

After a few moments in silence, the king sighs. "Well, I'm bored. Aren't you bored?"

"Terribly." I sigh. "If only Cullen were here." Then I'd be having a whole lot of fun.

"Ah yes, your templar." He chuckles. "Quite a scandalous affair. Tell me, what _would_ you be doing if he were here?" A mischievous tone has crept into the man's voice.

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you _think_ we would be doing, Your Highness?"

"No need to be so formal." His gauntleted hand begins stroking my thigh. "I know what _I_ would be doing with you."

Well, I never. "Maker's breath, Your Majesty! That's rather inappropriate, don't you think?"

"Come, come, Warden. You are here, I am here, we are both bored." Cailan laughs. "Surely you know where you are."

"Fade or no Fade, I'm not going to have sex with you!" I want to have sex with Cullen, damn it.

The king pouts. "Hm, not even a little?" He utters a long, exaggerated sigh. "That is unfortunate."

"That doesn't mean I cannot entertain you." I get up from his lap. "How about a magic show?"

"A magic show does sound marvellous indeed," the man chuckles.

And so I spend the next moments using my entire arsenal of spells, which is not inconsiderable. Lightning, ice, fire... King Cailan claps and cheers, almost as happy as a little boy. I can't help but notice how handsome he is, and how familiar he looks. I've seen that face before. Just can't quite put my finger on it. One last spectacular fireball, and that's it. I'm empty. "I'm afraid this is it, Your Highness. I'm all out of mana."

"Wonderful!" my spectator laughs. He claps happily. "Well done."

"Thank you, thank you." I take my bow. This was actually quite fun. I bet that I would be an enormous hit at children's parties.

Cailan grabs my hand and coaxes me back onto his lap. "Perhaps I can entertain _you_ now, hmm?" he coos, sliding his hand onto my inner thigh. That cheeky scoundrel.

"Please don't do that, Your Majesty." No means no! "I belong to another."

"Don't be preposterous. None of this is real. It's not cheating if you're only dreaming." His other hand cups my breast, flicking the thumb along my hardened nipple. This guy must be used to getting what he wants. But isn't that what these dreams of mine are about? Getting what _I_ want? And having a man between my legs is what I want. But why doesn't he look like Cullen? I imagine it's because the entire time I spoke with our king, I was thinking of how good-looking the man was, wondering what he looked like under his golden armour. And hardly listening to a word he said. I'm bad like that.

"Fine then... Cailan. Lose the armour and you may _entertain_ me." Imagine that, me giving orders to a king. Only in dreams, girl, only in dreams.

He nods, a smug expression on his face. "I knew you would come around." I blink once and his metal suit has disappeared into thin air, an expensive-looking silk shirt and black trousers in its stead. If I didn't know this was a dream, I certainly do now. His hand tangles into my hair to yank back my head and place a row of feverish kisses down my throat.

"No, no, not going to happen." I quickly squirm from his grasp and sit at his feet. Dream or no dream, I can't just jump another man's bones. My templar's bones are the only ones I should jump. "I prefer to watch."

Another exaggerated sigh. "Why are you being so difficult? Women throw themselves at me left and right." His Highness folds his arms before his chest and glares down on me. Like a spoiled child.

I look around. Nobody here but he and I. "Ladies, let me hear you if you want to be with King Cailan!" The only sound that greets me is the chirping of crickets. "So much for that then. Now, make with the entertainment." I pat his knee.

"Very well. It's your dream," he says with a smile. Upon that note Cailan doffs his shirt and throws it into my lap, revealing his well-developed upper body. Oh my. Like a beautiful sculpture, not a trace of hair or scars or blemishes, only smooth skin and defined muscle. Very unrealistic, if you ask me. But my eyes are pleased. "Is this what you wish to see?" His face has a feigned innocent expression to it.

I roll my eyes. "If I only want to _see_ a half-naked man, I will simply ask Alistair to remove his armour and stare at him a while. I see that I am going to have to help you." With that I grab a hold of his right hand and lay it upon his crotch. "Unlace this. Show me your naughty bits. Play with them."

"My word!" The man gasps in indignation. "That is quite the request to make of me. But I did promise you some entertainment..." One hand disappears into his trousers; I can clearly see it moving up and down. The other crooks its index finger. "Come closer and touch me," he whispers huskily. Pleasure stings into my gut, telling me I have to obey. I feel his pulse as I lay my hands on his chest; it's very rapid. He must be excited. Biting my lower lip I slowly run my hands down his torso. My own heart is beating so fast now I'm afraid it will vibrate right out of my ribcage. He is so firm under my hands, and feverishly hot too. And those soft moaning sounds he makes occasionally... Mmm.

"Oh, but you feel nice." My hands are busily exploring every bump and hollow on his wonderfully soft skin.

"Why don't you go a little lower?" he purrs, his eyes half-closed, a slight shade of pink colouring his face.

I immediately take my hands off him and wag my finger. "No, no, no. You would be entertaining me, not the other way around." Without further ado I unlace his trousers for him, for otherwise I bet nothing would happen. "Show me what you've got," I demand, twirling my fingers over the knuckles of his busily rubbing hand. Slowly, ever so slowly his hand emerges from the folds of black fabric. The thing in its grasp is pale, straight, rigid and... _enormous_. Seriously, I'm not kidding; my eyes must be the size of saucers. This is the stuff of a smutty novel right here. I have a filthy, filthy mind.

"Are you sure I cannot interest you in anything I have to offer?" my companion asks, his voice hoarse and thick. He chuckles, still occupied with pleasing himself.

I swallow and follow the movement of his hand with my eyes; up and down, up and down... "I ah, have to admit that I am intrigued by the size of your organ, my king." I mean, his hand doesn't even fully close around it. " _Very_ intrigued." And hot. Whew! I fan my face with my hands.

The man grins lustfully, tapping his upper leg. "Come."

"That's your job." But I do take a seat on the spot indicated, one arm draped around his shoulders. So much more comfortable than all that hard metal. His free hand brings my face closer to his for a kiss, a kiss that is smooth and sterile. Not sexy.

"That wasn't as pleasant as I thought it would be," Cailan muses when our mouths detach. He thoughtfully smacks his lips.

I shrug. "Maybe His Majesty is a very bad kisser. Doesn't matter though." Again my gaze shifts lower, to watch him wrestle with that ridiculously large member. It must be... I'm afraid to even venture a guess to the size of the thing. Why do I make these things up? And, worse yet, why does it arouse me so? Astoreth, you vile sex-fiend. I feel a strong urge to touch myself.

"Show me some skin," he suddenly says. "Please?" Surely it won't hurt showing myself to a figment of my imagination. I imagine it's already seen it all. So I slowly unbutton my robes to below my chest and open them for him. He sighs when he catches a glimpse of my breasts and extends his free hand towards me. "May I touch you, only a little?"

This is really on the borderline, but I can already feel my knees buckling. "All right." I allow him to do what he wants, keeping my eyes on the stroking motions of his hand while the fingers of his other hand disappear into my robes. His fingers gently explore the curves of my breasts, sometimes eliciting a moan of appreciation from his lips.

"You can touch yourself too, if you want," he whispers. His voice is heavy with desire.

"Oh, but I don't want to miss a second of this." I keep on looking at how he plays with himself, his hand swiftly stroking, rubbing, squeezing his erection. Still, I can feel my button pulsating. It's been a while since I touched myself. It's been a while since I touched another. It's difficult to not jump on top of him and just _take_ him. I mean, look at him; he's so ready for me. And so huge. I want to sink my teeth into him, make bloody scratches in his skin while we couple like beasts. But I shouldn't really... Argh, but I'm just so horny!

The only alternative would be to... Eh, why not? I slip my hand into my panties. Ah yes, it is as I suspected: I'm dripping wet. How could I not be, with a gorgeous man pleasuring himself right in front of me?

"Can't resist it, can you?" Cailan chuckles. Without warning he squeezes my nipple between his fingers just as I touch my button. My back arches and I whip back my head to utter a long-drawn moan. That felt _great_. "Struck the right cord." His voice is triumphant and a bit smug. I notice his hand has slowed down, his eyes mesmerized by my hand moving between my legs.

"Stay focused," I scold him. I'm not getting distracted by him, am I now? My middle and index finger are still busily tracing circles around this swollen little bump, sending little jolts of pleasure through my underbelly. Soon those jolts turn into veritable bolts of lightning, setting my body ablaze with ecstasy. I close my eyes and let my orgasm come over me. Somewhere I hear His Highness gasping and moaning.

When I open my eyes again, he's thankfully still playing with himself, staring at me with appreciative eyes. Good, I didn't miss anything.

"Good show," he breathes, his eyes falling shut. His hand moves quicker and quicker, so quickly now I can hardly see it. Then he bucks his hips upward with a load groan and stops his hand motions, gripping his member firmly around the middle. A quiver seems to travel through his body, starting at his feet and ending at the top of his head. First a few drops of whitish liquid come out of him, then the ejected drops turn into long squirts and finally into a slow trickle running down his hand. I swallow away the lump in my throat. That was... _spectacular_!

He opens his eyes and smiles at me. "Entertaining enough?" There are whitish drops and rivulets on his stomach, some even as high as his neck.

I return his smile. "Certainly." I remove my hand from my panties to look at my fingers. They're wet and wrinkled from all the moisture. When I bring my hand closer to my mouth, he snatches my wrist and sticks my fingers into his own mouth, slowly licking them clean. Sexy.

"Hand me my shirt, will you Warden?" He uses the garment to clean the stains from his body. Sighing contently, he folds his hands behind his head and leans deeper into his chair. "That was rather enjoyable. Let's do it again after I've recovered. You know," he says with a wink, "to combat the boredom."

Maker bless my filthy mind.

~*|'-'|*~

"Rise and shine, little Warden," I hear a man's voice. "Why does she have such a long name?" he mutters soon after.

"You can shorten it if you like, as long as you don't call me Ass," I mumble. "I don't take kindly to that." I open my eyes and rub the sleep out of them. That was an interesting dream. Alistair must've left me alone at some point, because I am no longer in his arms.

"Oh good, you're awake. Did you sleep well?" He's crouched down next to me, smiling brightly.

I sit up and yawn. "Yes, thanks." Looking around I see our camp is mostly dismantled; apparently they were all waiting for me. Morrigan, Sten and Leliana are waiting a distance away, with Stubbs happily bouncing around them. I stand, swiftly enough to make me slightly dizzy. "You should've woken me earlier! I could've helped pack everything up, you know."

"In your delicate condition?" Alistair chuckles and quickly rolls up my bedroll before stuffing it into my pack. Which he slings onto his own back.

"Come now, I can carry my own stuff. I'm pregnant, not disabled." Although I must admit, I like being pampered like this.

"The Chantry raised me to be a gentleman," he says solemnly. "I simply must do this. It's not so bad, is it?" With a chuckle he lightly pinches my cheek.

"Well, no. Thank you very much." I give him a quick hug before we catch up with the others and go on our way.

Redcliffe awaits us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends the Lothering bit. Read on for more.


	36. Redcliffe - The Prince Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair has a confession to make. Dear, oh dear, how will Astoreth react?

### Redcliffe - The Prince Thing

"Look, can we talk for a moment? I need to tell you something I ah, should probably have told you earlier." Alistair is nervously wringing his hands as we walk up to Redcliffe.

Getting here was no picnic. We encountered many a darkspawn band on the road and so killed many a darkspawn. I blew quite a few of them up, muahaha. Nothing like seeing those hideous creatures burst into flames and/or explode. As it turns out, Leliana is even better with a longbow than with her daggers. She usually stands next to me in battle, turning our fearsome foes into arrow-filled pin cushions. Morrigan is quite close to us, flinging spells while Alistair, Sten and Stubbs are busy whaling away at our enemies. I also do a bit of healing from time to time. It would be great if I could learn some more healing spells, but I guess that for now this minor spell and the poultices I make will have to do.

The poultices are especially useful for afterwards, when the damage can be assessed. Individually the darkspawn aren't very strong, but they work together very well (a group mind will do that for you). So often our mighty warriors come away from a battle less than unscathed. Now I've seen Alistair shirtless (yummy) many times to clean and bandage his wounds; I've even seen Sten undressed, although Morrigan is usually the one tending to his injuries. Now he looks powerful; nothing but hard muscle on him. Maker, I'd rather not get into a fight with _that_. It might even happen at some point, because he doesn't seem to like me much. He doesn't even believe I'm a Warden because I'm female. And he distrusts me because I'm a mage. Ah well, I'm sure that at some point he'll be convinced of my capabilities. Or snap me in two. But for now I guess I should see what Alistair has to say.

"What's on your mind?" I look him up and down, waiting for him to say something. Instead he first leads me a distance away from the others.

"I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right?" he says in hushed tones. "That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in?"

"Yes, I remember that…" Is this the part where he tells me something awful? I hope not.

"The reason he did that was because… well, because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my half-brother, I suppose." He swallows and stares at me awkwardly. I can only stare back at him with my mouth open. He's… of royal blood? This silly, rather comical guy is a _prince_?

I snap my fingers. "Now I know where I'd seen your face before! You look just like Cailan." I laugh in relief. At least he's not some maniac hell-bent on conquering the world violently, or some such nonsense. Ah, my silly erotic dream featuring King Cailan comes to mind, making me giggle. Alistair gives me a confused look. "Sorry, private joke. But is that it? I thought you were going to tell me something terrible."

"You're taking this well. I would've told you, but… it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me secret. I've never talked about it to anyone." He sighs sadly and takes my hands into his. "Everyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me. Even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn't want you to know, as long as possible. I'm sorry."

"Hey, I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me this. So thank you." I show him a smile and squeeze his hands lightly.

He sighs again, this time from relief I think. "Good. I'm glad. It's not like I got special treatment for it anyhow."

"No, my prince, no special treatment for you only because you have royal blood in your veins," I tell him with a wink. He immediately turns bright red.

"I-I wouldn't have it any other way," he stutters, with a happy smile on his face. "At any rate, that's it." He clears his throat. "That's what I had to tell you. I thought you should know about it."

"So then, are you the heir to the throne, now that Cailan's gone?" Oh, I'm running in high circles now, ha. Not that I give a damn about that; all that matters to me is that he's a good man. For all I care he's the offspring of a she-wolf and a particularly adventurous farmer. I might be just that myself, who knows.

Alistair winces. "Let's hope not. I'm the son of a commoner and a Grey Warden to boot. It was made very clear to me early on that there was no room for me raising any rebellions or such nonsense. And that's fine by me," he chuckles. "No, if there's an heir to be found, it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood, but he is Cailan's uncle, and more importantly, very popular with the people." Suddenly he looks worried. "Though, if he's really as sick as we've heard… No, I don't want to think about that. I really don't." He shakes his head.

"Come on, it will be fine." I let go of his hands to grab a hold of his shoulders. "We will go see the arl and help him get better. Yes?" When he nods I give him a firm pat.

"So there you have it. Now we can move on, and I'll just pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the other Grey Wardens," he says with a hopeful smile.

"That hurts, Alistair. Do you truly think that?" I show him a pout and a wounded look.

"Well… no. What I really think is that I was lucky enough to survive with you." And with that he turns and begins walking away, head held high, back straight. I can tell he's trying to make an awesome exit. Does he really think he's going to get away like that?

"Wait a minute, you." I run after him and sling my arms around his neck, tackling him. He lands face down in the sand. "Did you really think you were going to get away from me after saying such a sweet thing without getting a hug?" I coo into his ear. Subsequently I begin covering his face (the part that's not pressed into the ground anyway) with little kisses. He mumbles something I can't quite understand.

Leliana and Morrigan come strolling over to us. "Well done!" the latter compliments me. "He deserves that."

"Oh yes, I'm sure he deserves all those kisses she's giving him," Leliana giggles.

Morrigan glares at her. "I meant the tackling and making him eat sand."

Alistair raises his head and spits out some dirt and little pebbles. "Astoreth, get off me, Morrigan, leave me alone and Leliana… No, I can't think of anything. Carry on."

The women walk away, both of them chuckling to themselves. I get off Alistair and help him up. "Uh, I hope you're not angry with me or anything." Again with the impulsiveness. Maybe I'm just not very smart.

"No, of course not." He shakes the dust off himself. "I should know better. You're just full of affection, aren't you?" He smiles and pats my head.

"Yes, I guess so. But not for everyone, my friend, not for everyone." And now it's my turn to make an awesome exit.


	37. Redcliffe - Evil Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grey Warden party help Redcliffe prepare for the impending arrival of some nondescript evil things.

### Redcliffe - Evil Things

Argh, I should've known this wasn't going to be easy. As soon as we got close to the bridge leading farther into town, we were stopped by a rather frantic man who told us about evil 'things' coming from the castle every night and attacking Redcliffe. Evil things, yes, very specific. I was hoping for evil bunnies or something; at least they are quite small. At any rate, he led us to the village Chantry, to the man in charge of the defence of the village, Bann Teagan of Rainesfere. He is the arl's younger brother, and apparently he and Alistair know one another. Makes sense, since my favourite Warden lived here until he was ten years old.

So now we are tasked with helping the mayor preparing the defence, as well as the knights (led by a Ser Perth) in the arl's service who are still here. Most of them were sent out all over Ferelden by the arlessa to search for Andraste's ashes to cure the arl. A fool's errand if you ask me. Those ashes could be anywhere. Of course Morrigan complains and wants us to leave them to their own devices, that nasty witch. How could we? Sten has his objections as well, thinking this won't help quell the Blight. Not directly, no, but our cause would benefit greatly from the arl's help.

At nightfall the undead, as it turns out the evil things are, will attack. Very ominous, no? But I'm sure we'll be all ready by then. I wonder how difficult it will be to kill, or rather, re-kill walking corpses. I guess we'll find that out tonight. For now, I have a little time to spare. Alistair is off speaking with the knights, Leliana's helping the mayor; I don't know what Sten and Morrigan are doing. Probably sulking in a corner somewhere. I've no doubts they will help kill the monsters, so for now they can act like spoiled toddlers if they wish.

This Teagan fellow here looks interesting. He wears the silk finery of a nobleman and looks very trim. And he's been eyeing me with interest himself while he was talking to Alistair and telling us how we could aid them. It reminds me of how Daveth would look at me, without the highly sexual atmosphere to it. I feel the thief's eyes on me still, but it doesn't bother me anymore. It's a rather soothing feeling, like he's still with me or something. I must be insane; therefore, I tell nobody about this. Nobody must know! Well, in the meantime, I think I will speak with Bann Teagan. "My lord? Might I ask you to tell me something about yourself?"

With an eyebrow raised, he says: "This is hardly the time to be discussing personal details, don't you think?" His voice is incredulous and slightly annoyed. "We will have to fight for our lives very shortly."

"Yes, my lord." I'm not one to give up to quickly, however. "But would knowing a little about you truly be too much to ask?" He's going to fall for this one, I know it for sure; I'm so smooth.

He gives in. "I beg your pardon, my lady, where are my manners?" The smile on his face is most gracious. "What would you like to know?"

I wondered at how well he can use the sword and shield on his back. "Are you a skilled warrior?"

"Skilled enough to know there are many far better than myself," he replies modestly. Great, that doesn't tell me much. Why is it so difficult to get a straight answer out of someone? I swear, sometimes I just... But never mind, I digress.

"Do you have any family yourself, my lord?" Would he have children? Surely he could then give me some pointers on child-rearing. Or on how much trouble it is to have a pregnant wife. I suppose in a way Cullen is quite lucky to miss out on temper tantrums and having to fetch food no sane person would eat, in the middle of the night. How will he react to the news? Will he be happy? Please let him be happy. I don't know what I would do otherwise.

"Oh... you mean, am I married?" Teagan's cheeks flush a slight shade of pink at my question. I wonder why this would be embarrassing. "I... no. No, I've never had the pleasure. If I did, I'd be lucky to find a woman as lovely as yourself."

I can't help but giggle girlishly. Compliments, I just love them. "Oh my, you flatter me." I must be blushing like a fool.

"If I may be so bold, what of you, my lady? Are you married?" Wow, he sounds eager. I hope he doesn't pop the question as soon as I say that I'm not.

"Well, my lord, I am a mage." I can be evasive too, you know.

"Mages can marry, or so I'm told," he chuckles.

"Yes, if the man is brave enough." While a normal woman might chase her man around the house with a frying pan when he comes home drunk, a woman with the gift of magic might paralyze her man to deliver him the spanking of his life, or even something less innocent when the offense is greater. It's no surprise not many of us get married.

"I can think of several reasons why one would be willing to be so brave," he speaks softly. Somehow he's come closer to me unnoticed; the bann's blue eyes are scanning my face with unveiled interest, especially lingering around my lips. Uh oh. I immediately take a large step back. I have no intention of becoming this man's mistress. Sure, he seems nice and he looks good and all, but he's just a little too… old for my tastes. Very shallow of me, but hey, I'm spoken for anyway. "But I am too bold, my lady. This is hardly the time for such banter. Please accept my apology." He touches his hand to his chest and bows his head.

"That's quite all right, my lord, don't you worry about it." I smile at him as he raises his head. A nice man, who can thankfully take a rather unsubtle hint.

"You are too kind, my lady, amongst other things." His voice trails off while he looks me up and down. Of course I'm better covered by my evil cultist robes, but they still cling to my curves and then there's the slit along my leg, some minor cleavage. Not that I don't like turning heads here and there, but sometimes you just want to go unnoticed.

"I'll go back to work now." I briefly dip into a bow before almost running out of the Chantry. That was too close for comfort, even for a girl like me who likes a bit of risk every now and then. Why do you think I spent a night in Daveth's bedroll? Sure, it would've been safer to almost freeze to death all by myself, but nowhere near as exciting. Or warm.

Just outside the door I almost bowl Alistair over. "Ah, there you are!" he calls. "The knights want some holy protection from the Maker. What should I do?"

Before I can even answer Leliana appears behind him. "Good, I found you. I need your diplomatic skill to convince the blacksmith and a dwarven warrior to help the village," she says.

"A dwarf? Wow! I've never even seen one in my life. Let's go." The knights will have to wait. A dwarf, neat!


	38. Redcliffe - Baby's First Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth asks Leliana for advice and a story.

### Redcliffe - Baby's First Story

I have come to the conclusion that dwarves are awesome; such stout and sturdy creatures they are. The one that lives in the village, Dwyn, wasn't all that nice, but he is willing to put his life on the line for the village now. It took me all the persuasion I could muster though. Even had to break the door to his house down. Well, Alistair had to.

And that poor blacksmith. All the mayor said was that he refused to properly arm and equip the soldiers, not why. It turns out his daughter works in the castle and he's been drinking himself into a stupor because he's afraid she's dead. So I had to promise to bring her back (dead or alive, but I hope alive) before he would start up his furnace again.

As for the knights… The Revered Mother in the Chantry blessed some silver charms, and although they won't offer any physical protection, the knights were quite happy with them. Leliana disagrees with us giving them the charms; she believes we shouldn't be lying to the knights about their effectiveness. Well, I didn't. I said they weren't magical, but they believed in their holy powers anyway. Fine then, they can believe whatever they wish. I'm not complaining about what Leliana believes, am I? I actually like her ideas, of how the Maker reveals Himself in the beauty of His world.

This would be quite a nice town, if it weren't for the looming threat of the attack and the fear that's almost so thick I can poke holes into it with my staff. Sadly the general store is closed; lately I've developed a craving for fresh milk. Must be one of the side-effects of pregnancy. However, we did find some barrels of oil which the knights will use to set many an undead on fire. I guess that will save me some work, ha.

Morrigan and Sten were hiding in the local tavern, both suffering from the mopes as I had suspected. We also found a spy Loghain sent here, some elf by the name of Berwick. He was supposed to watch the castle and report any new developments. So far all he could report was the arl's illness. Sadly he didn't know anything about where those walking corpses were coming from. Heh, he will aid the defence of Redcliffe tonight at my suggestion, very grateful I didn't do anything to hurt him. Why are these people so afraid of me? Oh yes, it's because I have a beautiful but frightening-looking witch, a powerful warrior, a mabari hound and a fearsome giant with me. Leliana isn't all that scary, to be honest. And neither am I. Well, I wouldn't be, if I weren't a mage.

The tavern keeper (Lloyd is his name) annoys me. I practically had to threaten to kill him before he agreed to help the village. I can't believe it; the man lives here, so naturally it would be quite a nuisance for him if all his patrons were murdered and joined the legion of undead pouring from the castle every night. But still he insisted on locking himself in his wine cellar to make sure his alcoholic beverages would be kept safe. Cowardly, greedy bastard. Why would that matter if you could die?

And so now we are in the tavern waiting for nightfall. Lloyd is in the village square with all the others, so his much friendlier and better-looking waitress is serving us. Bella is kind enough to give us the drinks for free (although we had to promise not to tell her boss about it). Sad she doesn't have any milk. I could so use some right now.

"Leliana, could I speak with you?" Now's as good a time as any to ask her about staying celibate.

"Of course." She follows me to a table in the back of the tavern, a distance away from the others. "Is there something you wish of me?"

"Ah, yes." Now how do you ask something like this? "I would like to talk to you about celibacy."

"Celibacy?" She utters her lovely melodious laugh. "I'm afraid you have the wrong idea of me."

"What do you mean? You are a sister of the Chantry, are you not?" Is she just ignoring her vows?

"Do you recall I said I am a lay sister? This means I have affirmed my belief in the Maker. I have not taken any vows of chastity." She chuckles again at my mistake.

"Oh. I was wondering what that meant. Damn. Does that mean you can't give me any advice on how to stay celibate?" I sigh. Not getting any is going to drive me crazy someday. Someday soon.

"How so? Is Alistair not taking care of you?" she asks in a low voice.

I look at the pretty redhead across from me in shock. "What? _Alistair_? No! We're not lovers." Why would she think that? Sure, I hug and touch him a lot, but I just can't help that. I like him; a little more than I should I'm afraid. But he's just so… Mmm.

"Oh? You could have fooled me." Her blue eyes narrow as she smiles. How she reminds me of the friend I left at the tower. "Then tell me what bothers you, if you want to."

"Well, you see…" I trust her, though I've only known her for a short time. Just look at her; she looks sweet and innocent, and she's been nothing but nice to me. Surely she can be trusted. "This is the thing. I left my love behind in the tower and I try so hard to stay true to him, I really do. I miss him so much. But temptation is everywhere." Leliana makes no reply, just gestures for me to continue. So I do. "This other recruit for the Wardens and I had some chemistry between us. It was a close call. If Alistair hadn't intervened, I'd have betrayed my love already. And then there's Alistair. I mean… Look at him." The few times I've seen him without his armour, I had to gather all of my resolve not to ravish him then and there.

"I understand." She nods. "He is a very nice boy, no? What became of this recruit you mentioned?"

I swallow. "Ah, he didn't make it. He's dead."

She sends me a pitiful look. "How sad!"

"Yes, it is. I would rather not speak of it." Thinking of him still grieves me a little, so I try to avoid it as much as possible.

Leliana nods in understanding. "Have you tried meditation?"

"I doubt meditation would do anything for me. My mind is a very busy place. Before I know it, thoughts of uhm, love will have crept in. And that will only make it worse." I sigh.

"I see. Hmmm…" She touches her index finger to her lips, apparently in deep thought. Such a charming gesture. "You could always bring yourself to release," she suggests casually.

I stare at her with my mouth open. "E-excuse me?"

Leliana giggles at my response. "If you don't know how, I could give you some advice…"

"No, I know perfectly well how to please myself. I just didn't expect you to say that." Still, there is only so much my own hands can do.

"Yes, of course. But aside from those two, I cannot think of anything. You could always lock yourself in a monastery, but something tells me you would go mad after only a few hours in that silence." She laughs happily.

"You remind me so much of my friend," I blurt out.

"Your friend? Someone you knew from the Circle?" she asks curiously.

"Yes. My best friend, Daniela is her name. You have the same sparkling blue eyes." Maker, I haven't seen her for so long. How would she be doing? What would she be doing right now? Knowing her, probably some guy in that corner of the library, ha-ha. She specializes in ice-based spells because they go so well with her eyes, or so she always used to say. Ah, I miss our silly conversations. "So tell me, Leliana, what did you do before you entered the Chantry? Where did you learn to fight like that?" A woman with those fighting skills can't have picked them up in any monastery. Unless there is a secret division of the Chantry that teaches its priestesses to wield bows and daggers as well as the next trained killer. Huh. Now there's an interesting notion.

She smiles awkwardly. "I was a travelling minstrel in Orlais. I would sing or tell tales and the audience would reward me with coin and applause. And my skills in battle, well, one learns such things on the road, no?" I have the feeling she's not telling me everything. I've been on the road quite a bit and I still can't use a bow to save my life. No matter.

"A minstrel?" I clap my hands together. "Do you have any tales you could share with me?"

"Of course!" Leliana exclaims cheerfully. "I love stories far too much to keep them all to myself. What would you like to hear about?"

As I think about what kind of story I'd like to hear, Alistair saunters up to our table. "What are you ladies talking about?" I can tell he's really, really bored.

"We were talking about sex rather explicitly," I joke.

His face instantly turns as red as a poppy. "I'll be going back to my own seat now."

"Oh, I'm only kidding." I pat the chair next to mine. "Sit. Leliana was just about to regale me with a story."

He obediently does as I say. "Ooh, a story. What about?"

"Oh, I don't know. Why don't you surprise us, Leliana?"

The pretty minstrel shifts in her seat, clearly in her element. "Then I shall tell you one of my favourite legends: the tale of Aveline, knight of Orlais." I lay my hands on my stomach. Baby's first story! Alistair catches me doing this and smiles at me as if it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. Leliana begins: "A long time ago…" Ah, that voice, that accent! I have a feeling I will be calling upon her to tell me a story often in the time to come.


	39. Redcliffe - Fancy Meeting You Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth and co. encounter a familiar face in the dungeons of Castle Redcliffe.

### Redcliffe - Fancy Meeting You Here

Damn, last night was an ordeal. We could smell the walking corpses long before we could see them, the stench of putrid flesh and vile gurgling noises filling the air. Disgusting. And the buggers kept on coming too; for every one we cut down, another three appeared. Thinning their numbers took a lot of time and effort from everyone, but we did it. I was chugging down lyrium potions the whole time, almost drinking as fast as I could cast. I swear this stuff is some kind of narcotic; after ten or so I began seeing the prettiest colours everywhere. Far out.

Once the walking corpses no longer walked and just... lay there, there was only one casualty: Lloyd, the tavern keeper. He didn't even get killed in the battle itself; we found him behind the Chantry, with a walking corpse contently munching on his innards. Tsk tsk, had he joined the battle, we would've been able to protect the man better. But no, he chose to hide.

I didn't come away completely unscathed away myself; one of the foul things appeared behind me and began clawing at my back, leaving some nasty and painful wounds before Alistair (my ever vigilant guardian) cut it down. Stubbs ripped off its head for good measure. Of course I've not seen it myself, but Morrigan made a worried hissing noise when she cleaned and applied salve to my gashes. Flemeth was so much better at healing; the injuries I sustained at the Tower of Ishal had been healed without leaving so much as a single scratch. This will probably leave a permanent mark. The worst thing is that my brand new robes were badly torn and I will have to repair them myself. Damn it, I just bought these.

After the battle, Teagan was busily explaining to us about a secret entrance to the castle basement only accessible with the use of his family's signet ring, when arlessa Isolde came running out. She desperately wanted Teagan and only Teagan to come with her into the castle. I didn't quite get everything she said; the woman was babbling frantically. A demon in the castle, a mage poisoning the arl?

As soon as Alistair announced his presence, she wrinkled her nose and was about to say something nasty. I don't like her. I also think she was lying to get the bann to come with her. The arlessa said something about Connor requesting his presence, I don't know. At any rate, Teagan ordered us to sneak into the castle anyway to find out what the matter is, deal with it and open the main gate for the knights when we get there. When I said I'd do my best to take care of this situation, he said something about me being as beautiful as I was brave. Where does he get the idea I'm beautiful? Did Alistair tell him that? Ah well, I don't mind hearing it. In fact I cannot hear it often enough, awkward though it sometimes may be. Boosts the self esteem, you see.

Anyway, that's where we are now, the castle basement. The dungeons, to be precise. Someone seems to be in here. A man. I can hear him screaming at the undead pounding on his cell door. Great, they're in here too. Why wouldn't they be? And I'm pretty sure I've heard this prisoner's voice before, but I'm not going to get my hopes up.

The walking corpses are easily dispatched with Alistair and Sten hacking them to pieces. My healing skills aren't even needed; a bath is though. This time Stubbs isn't too eager to help; I can tell from his posture that these surroundings scare him. No amount of petting and soothing words could help. I walk up to the cell, my heart pounding rapidly.

"Hello? Is there someone out there? Who is it?" the prisoner cries.

I gasp. Surely it can be no other. I'd recognise that voice anywhere. "Jowan?" I stand before the prisoner's cell to take a good look at him. "It's you!" Wow, but he looks terrible. Covered in blood, his form remarkably thinner in his tattered robes, still the same as he wore the day I last saw him. It's difficult to tell with all that blood, but he appears to be wounded too.

As soon as my former friend recognizes me, he looks unpleasantly surprised and steps back. "By all that's holy… you! I can't believe it." He shakes his head in disbelief. "Maker's breath! I never thought I'd see you again, of all people." Humph, he sounds nearly disgusted to see me.

I cock my head to the side. "Well now, is that how you greet your lifelong friend? The one who helped your sorry behind escape, in the name of friendship, in the name of _love_ , only to be betrayed in the end?"

He snorts in disdain. "What did you expect? That I'd jump in your arms and cry about how happy I am to see you? For all I know you're here to finish me off."

"You ruined my damned life, you idiot!" I stick my arms through the bars to try and grab him, but he quickly steps out of my reach. I continue clawing at him, knowing it's useless, but I have to try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

"And I'm sorry! I didn't mean for anything to happen to you," he says, grabbing a hold of my hands and stopping their mad flailing.

"Sure, fine." I jerk my hands away. Sniff, sniff. "Ew, you stink."

"Yes, my servants haven't shown up with my bath this morning," he retorts sarcastically. Fair enough, I suppose that in prison you don't get to have a hot bath often. Or at all, as it seems.

"Never mind that. What are you doing here? What's happened to you?"

"What they'd do to all traitors, or would-be assassins." He sighs sadly.

"Would-be assassins? Explain yourself." What kind of trouble has he got himself into now?

"I..." A look of regret flashes across his face. "I poisoned the arl. He could be dead already, for all I know." Behind me I hear Alistair gasping in surprise and horror.

"You _poisoned_ the arl? What... But why?" What has the arl ever done to him?

"Please, I know how it seems!" His voice desperate, Jowan comes closer to the cell door and sticks his arms through the bars towards me in a pleading gesture. "Poisoning the arl was a terrible thing, but I swear I'm not behind everything else happening here!" His eyes are pleading with me to believe him. Well, I guess; why would he lie, right? He's got nowhere to go and nothing more to lose. I suppose I should be nicer to him. I sigh and reluctantly grab a hold of his hands. This is familiar; like the old days, when we'd go running around the tower together, laughing and happy. He sighs, half in relief and half in resignation. "Before I say anything else, I need to ask you a question."

Of course I know exactly what he wants to ask me. "The Chantry took her away. I don't know where to." I lightly squeeze his hands in sympathy. The longer I'm here, the more I pity him.

His expression is so sad I could nearly cry. "Oh my poor Lily! She must hate me now, even if she lives. What have I done?" A lone tear trickles down his cheek, making a clean path in the blood caked to his face. Seemingly satisfied with my answer, he says: "So, here we are again, the two of us. What happens now?" His voice carries a tone of deep resignation.

"First you give me more information, then we decide what to do you with you, that's what." I let go of his hands and cross my arms before my chest. "Start talking. Begin with how you came here."

"Connor had started to show signs," he explains. "Lady Isolde was terrified the Circle of Magi would take him away for training."

"Connor? A mage? I can't believe it!" Alistair mumbles incredulously.

"She sought an apostate to teach her son in secret, so he could hide his talent. The arl had no idea," Jowan continues.

"Hmm. So the arlessa was afraid the little one would be taken away?" Yes, I wouldn't be eager to give my child up either. But obviously _this_ wasn't a very smart thing to do.

"Yes. Teyrn Loghain found out, and sent me. I was to use the opportunity to poison the arl." He hangs his head in shame. "I was told Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden, that if I dealt with him, Loghain would settle matters with the Circle."

"Oh, you poor, gullible fool. Loghain has abandoned you here. He has betrayed the Grey Wardens too. Alistair here," I point in his general direction with my thumb, "and I are the only ones left in Ferelden."

Jowan stares at me, his eyes wide with surprise. Despite the situation he bursts out laughing. "A Grey Warden? _You_?" Hiccupping and gasping, his body convulses with laughter. Behind me I hear Alistair chuckling. Yes, laugh it up, Warden, you'll get your comeuppance.

"Okay, you moron, that's enough." I give him a hard stare and he immediately straightens.

"Ah..." He wipes the tears from his face. "I'm sorry. You're just so impulsive, almost still a little girl."

"You're telling me. But yeah, Duncan saved me by recruiting me. From the wrath of Greagoir, of which _you_ are the cause, old pal, old buddy of mine." I can't help but be a little mean to him. He's put himself in this mess.

"I know! I betrayed you and Lily. I'm so, so sorry!" All cheer is gone from him now, only guilt and regret seem to drive him as he clutches the bars to his cage.

"Forget about me, I turned out all right. So, do you have anything to do with the undead, the demons?" We can kiss and make up later (in a manner of speaking); now all that matters is to get to the bottom of this.

"I was already imprisoned when all that began. At first the arlessa came here with her men, demanding I reverse what I'd done. I thought she meant my poisoning of the arl." He swallows hard. "That's the first I heard about the walking corpses. She thought I'd summoned a demon to torment her family and destroy Redcliffe."

"And did you?" I reach out my hand to lightly touch his, the knuckles pale from fervently clutching the bars.

He stares at me with desperate eyes. "No, I just said I didn't, I..."

"Yes, but you also denied being a blood mage and that turned out to be a filthy lie," I cut him off brusquely.

"This time I'm not lying. Lady Isolde had me tortured. There was nothing I could say or do that would appease her, so they... left me here to rot." His voice is so sad. None of the glaring I got when I'd asked him if he were a blood mage. And those eyes... so sorrowful. And guileless. I'm inclined to believe him.

"Fair enough. Any idea who or what might've caused this? What about Connor?" Of course the boy is only a young child and probably very inexperienced. But children have a way of surprising you, as the little apprentices at the tower would sometimes do. Adorable little rascals.

"He can barely cast a minor spell, never mind something more powerful. But he may have done something to tear open the Veil..." Jowan rubs his chin in contemplation. "With the Veil torn, Fade spirits and demons could infiltrate the castle," he ponders.

"It would take quite powerful ones to make those walking corpses." I scratch my head. This is plausible.

"Ugh!" Jowan suddenly cries out. "The arl's a decent man and I poisoned him anyway... I'm such a fool!"

I can't help but agree, but I myself am not always the most sensible person around. "Everyone makes mistakes." Granted, his are no small matters. Blood magic, attempted murder...

"Mistakes like mine? I've just messed everything up. My entire life; I've made such bad decisions." Jowan covers his face with his hands. "Maker, I've made so many mistakes! I disappointed so many people." His voice is filled with grief.

"Hey, hey..." I carefully pry his hands away from his face and hold them. "You can feel sorry for yourself, but instead you should _do something_. Don't you think so?" I punctuate my every word with a squeeze to his hands.

"You're right. I'm just sick of running away and hiding from what I've done," he says resolutely. "We were friends once..."

"We still are. I'm not going to say that I'm very happy with all the stupid things you've done, but I'll forgive you." I stare into his pale blue eyes. Little known fact: I had a crush on him when I was twelve. At that time, to me he was the cutest boy I'd ever seen. I would sometimes imagine how it would be to kiss him and to be held in his arms, but I shrugged it off because I didn't want to mess up our friendship.

The puppy love thing faded eventually, until I... I don't know what to call it, became a woman, I guess. He became attractive to me again, a young man with a perpetual shadow of a beard on his jaw, shiny black hair, pale blue eyes. I'd beg him to take me to bed, usually making him blush and stutter, after which he'd always turn me down. And whenever I touched myself I'd fantasize about feeling him on top of me, pulling his hair and running my nails down his back while he fucked me hard, sending my body flying into bliss. And then Lily came along and I dropped such thoughts completely. Because he was no longer potentially mine for the taking. Such is life.

"Really? You'll forgive me?" he whispers with unveiled emotion in his voice.

"Of course. I've known you most of my life, after all. Surely our sordid past is worth something, right?"

"Oh, sordid?" I hear Morrigan ask behind me, her voice laced with interest.

I turn to face her. "Just in a manner of speaking, Morrigan." She makes a disappointed noise.

"Please, I'm begging you!" Jowan turns my attention back to him. "Won't you help me try and do one thing right in my life?" Those pleading eyes, his hands desperately clutching mine... I hope I'm not going to regret my decision.


	40. Redcliffe - Goodbye, Pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth runs to Stubbs' aid.

### Redcliffe - Goodbye, Pants

Well, in the end I decided to let Jowan help us. Of course Alistair and Sten objected; he's a blood mage, he can't be trusted, blah, blah. But he really wants to make things right and so I gave him the chance to. Not that he would join our merry band, no... He didn't want to follow me into danger, he said. Stupidity. We are like a tiny army: we have warriors, mages, an archer, a fierce war hound. I understand though, it would probably have been uncomfortable for him. But in any case, he wanted to sneak up into the castle and try to fix the situation. I hope he doesn't get himself killed...

Maker, this place does not please me at all. The first thing we encountered was a _room full of demons_! Well, granted, there were only four or so of them, but still. I've been quite sick of demons ever since my Harrowing. Something tells me I will be seeing more of them than I'd ever wished, however. There's probably even one behind all the trouble in Redcliffe.

"Smells like wet dog here," Sten comments dryly, his nostrils flaring in disgust. Stubbs barks and utters a low growl.

"Are there mabari here, boy?" I ask him. He barks the way I've come to understand as a yes. "Are they hostile?" The same bark in response. "Then stay back, boy, I don't want you to witness them dying." Now he barks in what seems a protest. "You wish to help? Fine then, come along," I give in to him. He bumps his head against my hand for some petting before abruptly running off into a room farther down the hall. Soon we hear vicious barking and snarling. "Eep!" I follow my beloved pet, darting into the room which turns out to be the dog kennel. He is surrounded by five others of his kind, all of them snarling and their fur standing on end. Their gazes shift to me as soon as I barge in. "Uhm… Nice doggies…" I back away slowly, but they follow, growling dangerously. Oh Maker, why have you made me so impulsive? The largest and meanest-looking one, I assume their pack leader, gets ready to pounce, all of its muscles flexing. I have no choice but to send a blast of flame at it, setting its fur alight. It must be torture, judging from the painful yelping and frantic rolling. I don't want to hurt these animals, but it's either them or us; dog eat dog, if you will.

The other four watch their leader squirm and whine in pain for a short moment, and then look back at me with renewed fervour in their low growling. Then Stubbs utters a frightful, deafening howl, sending the other hounds into disabling dizziness. They teeter about on their legs. I take this chance to pelt their still smoking, but not quite dead, leader with bolts of arcane energy, killing it swiftly. Stubbs has sunken his teeth into another's throat, making blood gush out with his sharp teeth.

The others run in and the kennel is instantly a model of chaos with all the snarling (some of it coming from Sten), barking, shouting and cutting, flying of arrows, flinging of various spells, flashing of steel and flowing of blood. In a moment it's over, the scent of blood thick in the air. The five hostile dogs are lying dead on the floor, some of them no longer recognisable as dogs.

Sten is looking daggers at me. "You are a fool, woman." Damned if he's not right.

"I know," I reply meekly. I _am_ a fool. It's a miracle I've survived as long as I have.

"And knowing is half the battle," Alistair says sagely. "I wouldn't have quite put it that way," he glares at Sten, "but you do need to think things through more, little Warden."

"You're both right. I'm a fool and I shouldn't be so impulsive." I sigh and rub my temples. Maybe I should try meditating; it's supposed to sharpen the mind and calm the heart.

"Do not be so hard on her," Morrigan chides. She protectively lays an arm around my shoulders.

"I agree," Leliana chimes in. "She was merely concerned for his handsome boy." She gives Stubbs a friendly rub between the ears. He barks and stands on his hind legs, supporting his front paws on my shoulders. Boy is he heavy! I have to grab onto him and hug him to stay standing while he licks my face, covering me in smelly dog drool. Yuck.

"Down, boy!" He immediately sits at my feet, panting like the happiest dog in the world. I furiously wipe my face, but the smell isn't going anywhere. "Thanks for the support, ladies," I look at Leliana and Morrigan, "but they're right. I've been stupid like this since forever."

"There is nothing wrong with your mental faculties," Sten objects, not unkindly.

"But you might've gotten yourself killed!" Alistair exclaims dramatically. "Then they would've had me lead, and we would get lost, people would die and I'd get stranded somewhere without any pants."

No pants? Interesting. I drop myself to the floor, playing dead. Stubbs rolls onto his back too, apparently convinced we are playing a game. "Are his pants gone yet?" My question is greeted with feminine laughter that only becomes louder when Stubbs begins tugging at Alistair's pants in an attempt to please me.

"Hey! Hey!" he shouts indignantly. Then he loses his balance and lands on his back right next to me. "Look what you did," he says to me in fake anger.

"Blame yourself, Warden. That's what you get from having a laugh at my expense." I chuckle and get back on my feet. Alistair gives me a hard stare before getting up as well, mumbling something about how he thought I hadn't heard him.

I sniff. Damn it. "Do you smell that? More walking corpses."

And then the ghastly gurgling begins, followed by shuffling steps.

Morrigan clicks her tongue in annoyance. "Marvellous. Is there no end to them?"

There won't be, unless we stop whatever is behind all this madness.


	41. Redcliffe - The Extraction of Arrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is more fighting.

### Redcliffe - The Extraction of Arrows

There is something behind this door, I just know it! But try as we might, we cannot open it; not with Leliana's superior lock picking skills (learned on the road, no doubt), not with repeatedly bashing it, not with lobbing fireballs at it. Well, at least we found the blacksmith's daughter, shivering like a leaf in a tightly locked room. She's already on her way back to her father, taking the route we took to get in. "Just follow the trail of dead putrid corpses we left," I told her. She didn't even find it remotely funny. See, it's funny because being dead is an inherent trait of corpses, so I didn't have to call them dead. Ah, my humour is wasted on these people.

"Looks like we need to find another way in," Alistair says, pointing to the doors farther down the hall.

And with that we trudge on. Ever onwards. Come to think of it, it would be great if we had horses. Not that they would do us any good indoors.

~*|'-'|*~

The courtyard. It's eerily silent here. I can almost smell an ambush; come to think of it, the stench of rotting flesh is thick here. The sneaky buggers are lying in wait for us already.

"So," I point towards gate switch on the wall, "who wants to run and open the gate?" The knights are already waiting patiently on the other side.

"What, you're not going to run in and just do it?" Alistair grins.

I shake my head. "No, I think I've learned my lesson for now."

"I'm just so proud of you!" He picks me up into a bear hug, squeezing the air out of me. Not that I don't appreciate it, but this is hardly the time. I wonder if the undead are finding this as amusing as Leliana seems to. Probably not.

"Don't kill me," I choke out. He immediately sets me down and pats my head.

Sten gives us an exasperated look. "I will go." With that he makes a run for it. He's very fast for someone with such a large frame. As soon as his hand is on the lever, the undead come pouring out of their hiding places. There's a nasty surprise with them: a _revenant_. I've read enough about them to know that they are quite powerful. Ah, but are they as powerful as we are? I think not. Maker, I hope not.

We are heavily outnumbered, but those skeleton's dry bones are easily set ablaze with a bit of fire. And how they keep running into each other, wonderful. It's like they're killing themselves. Such a fascinating spectacle! I could just about applaud them for a good show.

Our warriors and the knights are hacking away at the revenant. It's peppered with Leliana's arrows, but it's still not giving up. I'm rapidly pouring lyrium potions down my throat again to keep my mana up. Well, the shimmering colours just add to this battle I think. Heh, all those swirly shapes.

Before long, the bodies of our foes are littered on the courtyard. I don't envy the servants who are going to have to clean this up. Everyone has sustained some minor injuries (except for Leliana, Morrigan and I), but no casualties. Good. A few healing spells and they should all be as good as new.

"Uhm, do you realize there's an arrow sticking out of your shoulder?" Alistair stares at me, his eyes concerned.

I crane my neck to take a look. Huh, well, what do you know? There _is_ an arrow sticking out of my shoulder. "Oh, so that's the stinging sensation I felt there the entire time." I giggle. How funny I didn't notice. Guess I'm not as uninjured as I thought.

My fellow Warden tilts up my chin and looks into my eyes. "Are you… _high_?"

I giggle again. "Heh, yeah." These draining battles had better not occur too often; lyrium is addictive. While Alistair chides me on my abuse of lyrium potions, I feel a large hand on my shoulder, followed by excruciating pain. I can just feel the blood draining from my face. "Aaargh!" I turn to see Sten there, holding a bloody arrow in his hands. _My_ bloody arrow.

"The extraction of arrows is best done suddenly," he explains.

I feel a bit lightheaded. "Thank you. I'd probably have run away if you'd warned me beforehand." And now I feel very lightheaded. "I think I need to sit down." My knees buckle and everything goes black. Or I could just pass out.

~*|'-'|*~

I wake up to find Sten holding me. Responding to my probably very puzzled look, he says: "I was closest."

"Okay." Seeing how this is the first opportunity I've had so far, I seize it to study the Qunari's face. His eyes are such an unusual colour, a pale violet. I like unusual. But his lips really draw my attention. They are unusually full for a male. I find myself wanting to test the feel of them. Must be the lyrium talking. I shake my head. "You can let go of me now."

"Can you stand?" For now he's not going to release me yet, it seems.

I shrug. "I think so. I took an arrow to the shoulder, not to the leg."

"And yet your legs just gave out," he retorts dryly.

"Huh. Good point." I wiggle them about a bit. They seem fine. "But there is only one way to find out, isn't there?"

"True." The giant drags me up. My legs are a bit shaky, but I can stand.

"Well, thank you for catching me and everything." I nod to him. I receive a wordless nod in return. Awww… Look at my robes. They're ripped and filthy. Wardens just aren't allowed to own anything nice, are they? Humph.

"We are eager to see our arl. Shall we go into the main hall together?" Ser Perth suddenly pipes up. Oh, right, I'd forgotten he and his men were here too.

"Of course." I gesture to the large doors at the top of the stairs. "You first."


	42. Redcliffe - And the Catch?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid adventurers finally discover what is making the evil things walk.

### Redcliffe - And the Catch?

In the main hall we are greeted by the strangest sight. Or is it just me? I nudge Leliana in the ribs with my elbow. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"You mean Bann Teagan prancing about like a mad jester?" she replies dryly.

"Oh, so it's not the lyrium." Huh, you know, those back flips look pretty good. I feel compelled to ask him whether he does children's parties, but that would be so inappropriate. We would so be like, a golden team. Me with my magic shows, him the acrobatics. Yeah! Still, the boy I assume must be Connor seems to be enjoying it, clapping his little hands and jumping up and down. How cute he is! I hope my own child will be cute too. Oh dear, that double voice in which he speaks is not very cute. So that's what it is; the little one is possessed by a demon. Let us go see what it wants.

~*|'-'|*~

There was just no reasoning with the demon. Apparently it wants to conquer the world, which is why the undead have been trying to take over Redcliffe. Arl Eamon still lives; in fact, that is the whole reason Connor allowed the demon to possess him. Well, at some point the child fled upstairs and left us to battle Teagan and some guards that were still present. We had to knock them out cold before they could control their own minds again.

So, while Arlessa Isolde was pleading with us not to kill her son and find a way to make everything right, Jowan made a grand entrance. Immediately the woman went into a fit, screaming of how he was the cause of everything. Well, granted, if he hadn't poisoned the arl, Connor wouldn't have made that deal with his demon. So I guess he has played a great part. And then he offers his help…

"Help?! You betrayed me! I brought you here to help my son and in return your poison my husband!" Isolde fumes. A little longer and she'll begin foaming at the mouth.

"This is the mage you spoke of? Didn't you say he was in the dungeon?" Teagan asks, looking at me sideways.

"He was," the arlessa replies bitterly. "I assumed the creatures had killed him by now. He must have been set free."

I raise my hand. "Yes, that was me. I thought he might be useful."

"Useful?" Great, now that harpy's anger is directed towards me. "After everything he did, he should be executed! Without him, none of this would've happened!"

"Your secrecy made his actions possible, Isolde," Teagan interjects. That's telling her! And now they begin playing the blame game. Who bloody cares whose fault it is? All that matters is resolving it. We can always bicker about whom we will punish for it afterwards.

" _Will you all just shut up_!" I scream. The squabbling immediately stops. The silence in here is almost thick enough to cut through. "Look, let's just save this for later. Who has a valid suggestion on how to solve the situation?" I look around.

Alistair is the first to say something. "I normally wouldn't suggest slaying a child, but… he's an abomination. I'm not sure there's any choice." Isolde immediately begins crying. Understandably.

"There is another option," Jowan says. "A mage could confront the demon in the Fade, without hurting Connor himself."

"What do you mean? Is the demon not within Connor?" Teagan asks. He seems to find this interesting, oddly enough.

Jowan shakes his head. "Not physically. The demon controls Connor from the Fade, where he approached him when he dreamt. We can use their connection to find it."

The arlessa's tears have dried for now. "You can enter the Fade then?" Her tone is considerably gentler and hopeful. "And kill the demon without hurting my boy?"

"No, but I can enable another mage to do so," my old friend answers. Looking at me, he says: "With blood magic."

I place my hands on my hips. "Blood magic? Really? That which got you into trouble in the first place? Brilliant idea." I sigh. "But it's better than nothing. And the catch?"

"The ritual I know requires a lot of life energy." He clears his throat. "All of it, in fact."

"Ah, so instead of killing Connor, we kill someone else?" I roll my eyes. "That is _so_ much better. Is there really no other way?"

"Well, the power has to come from _somewhere_ ," Jowan replies defiantly, "and that means either lyrium or blood."

"You can find lyrium and more mages at the Circle of Magi, if they would even do it," Alistair suggests helpfully.

The Circle. Cullen. Oh yes, I'd much rather go beg for their assistance than sacrifice someone right now. "The tower is reasonably close to here." But not nearly close enough.

"That is an excellent point," my colleague says, apparently happy to have contributed. "One of the treaties is also for the Circle of Magi, after all."

"The tower is about a day's journey across the lake," Teagan pitches in. "You could attempt to get the mages' help."

"But what will happen here?" Isolde suddenly panics. "Connor will not remain passive forever!"

"It won't take forever, I promise," I assure her. "We will just have to take that chance."

Ah, I will be going back home! Yes, I hear people talking but I don't think it's important. The decision has been made. Well Cullen, I hope you're ready because I'm going to ride you until you _beg_ me to stop. And then some.


	43. Redcliffe - Ready the Lyrium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth has a talk with Jowan and steals an amulet.

### Redcliffe - Ready the Lyrium

I have to pee, so I excuse myself to go look for the privy. What have we here? Fancy room, nice desk, lots of books. The arl's study? Maybe there's something there that will help us on our journey. I know, that's stealing, but we are helping them too, so I feel justified.

Would you look at this? A silver amulet with Andraste's symbol on it, riddled with tiny cracks. It rings a bell. Ah, now I know. Alistair told me he had shattered his mother's amulet against a wall in anger. Would this be it? It has to be. What are the odds this is another, right? I mean, how many formerly shattered Andrastian amulets would there exist? And here, no less. Arl Eamon must've cared more for our little bastard prince than he thought, making so much effort to glue this thing together. Good, nobody's seen me. I stuff the keepsake into the pouch on my hip. Alistair's going to love this.

And now, to the privy.

~*|'-'|*~

When I come back into the main hall, everyone is talking amongst each other. Jowan casually walks up to me. "You're looking well." He looks me up and down curiously. "Except for the filthy robes maybe."

"I wish I could say the same of you. You might consider taking a bath, if the arlessa will let you."

"I hope so. I'm aching all over, what with these wounds and all." He looks down on his hands. "They even pulled out some of my fingernails," he remarks casually.

"Maker's mercy! Didn't that hurt?" I grab his hand to take a look at it. The nails on his index and middle finger are missing, showing raw naked flesh.

"No, actually it was quite pleasant." I stare at him in horror upon his reply. He sighs. "Of course it hurt, dummy. It was bloody excruciating. But that's the point of torture, isn't it?"

I nod. "I suppose so. How did you get up here anyway?" The little sneak only appeared after all the fighting had been done with. By us.

Redness creeps up on his cheeks. "I followed you," he admits.

I pat his shoulder. "You should've just joined us, silly."

"I would've liked to, but your friends don't like me much," he says sadly. "Especially the giant one."

"Of course not. Would you?" I chuckle. "Besides, the giant one doesn't like me either."

"Now I find that hard to believe." He shows me a gentle smile.

"Do you, now?" I shrug. "Well, I guess you would know. Who knows me better than you, right?"

We stay silent for a while. I don't know what's going on in his head, but I just keep thinking about my time at the tower. I would give my right arm to be back there now, to read a boring tome, or listen to a lecture nobody wants to hear, to speak with Daniela about whatever comes into my mind. And I just want to be with Cullen; to run my fingers through his hair, to kiss him, to slip my hand between his legs and make him moan in pleasure.

"I missed you, Astoreth," Jowan suddenly says. I look over to him. Poor thing looks so sad and lost. To think, if everything had gone right, he would've probably been on that farm he and Lily had wanted to buy.

"Heh. I missed you too, buddy." I link my arm with his and rest my head on his shoulder. I'm not going to linger here long; he still stinks. But not as much as the undead, luckily.

"So uhm, whose baby are you carrying?" he asks casually.

I blink in surprise. When did I tell him about that? "Say what?"

"Well, when you were trying to decide what to do with me, you kept holding your belly. At first I thought it was just something you ate, but someone who has a stomach ache usually doesn't have a dreamy smile plastered to her face." He chuckles and shifts his gaze to my stomach. The baby still isn't very visible. I had no idea I did such a thing.

I don't really see a use in denying. He's my oldest friend, and who is he going to tell? "That is very smart of you."

"Thanks. Who's the lucky man then?" I can tell he's nearly bubbling over with curiosity.

Let's see how he's going to react to this. "It's Cullen."

" _Cullen_?" he sputters. "That te-..." I touch my fingers to his mouth.

"Hush. The others don't know yet. I will tell them, in time. Keep your mouth shut, you hear?"

He raises his hands. "I'm not going to tell. But why _Cullen_ , of all people?" His voice is incredulous. I can't blame him.

"It started out as a hook up. But you've heard the rumours of him being in love with me, right?"

"Oh, it was all everyone ever talked about. But I didn't believe it," he chuckles.

"It was true though. The way he touched me, the way he looked at me, the sweet things he said to me... I just fell in love with him." I sigh at the memory. Those warm brown eyes of his; just thinking of them gets my heart beating faster.

"Love is weird like that, isn't it?" he says in a pensive voice. "Just like with me and..." Silence.

"I'm sorry about Lily." I awkwardly pat his shoulder. I just don't know what to say. There, there? Everything will be all right? The former is too meaningless, the latter a blatant lie. Instead I'll just keep quiet.

He sighs. "So am I. It's all my fault; I'm such a fool."

"Kind of, but at least you're trying to fix things. You're a good guy, Jowan." I give his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "You just made some bad decisions." _Very_ bad decisions.

"I'm glad you think so." He still seems sad, but a little less than before. "Is Cullen the reason you're so eager to return home?"

Home. The tower _used_ to be our home, but it is no longer. "Nope. I'm just killing a few birds with one stone. Getting the Circle to help against the Blight, to help Connor become demon-free and to see Cullen. That makes sense, right?" Although I have to admit, Cullen is the main reason. If I don't get some soon, my head's going to explode. And I just want to cuddle with him, and get this whole "I'm carrying your child" thing off my chest.

"Astoreth?" Alistair approaches us. "We should get going."

Jowan takes my hands into his. "Good luck," he tells me.

"You too. Keep safe."

Well Circle, here we come. Get that lyrium ready.


	44. Redcliffe - A Shocking Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth has something she needs to tell Alistair.

### Redcliffe - A Shocking Confession

Sure, one day across the lake, Teagan said. We would need a boat for that, now wouldn't we? All the boats in Redcliffe have been destroyed by the walking dead. Had there been a boat, none of us is too eager to spend an entire day on the lake in a few planks of wood. We'll have enough time for that when we're dead. So here we are, on the road again. I'm afraid this will take longer than I'd initially thought it would. With every step comes an image of Cullen and myself doing the most unspeakable acts. I'm surprised I'm not leaving puddles wherever I go. You can understand I'm ready to jump the nearest male in my company. That would be Alistair; he's always close to protect me, always the first to come to my aid when darkspawn or other creatures attack me.

In the meantime the baby has grown a bit further, making my belly poke out just a little. I still don't look pregnant, merely as if I've just indulged in too great a meal. Lately I find myself cradling that small bump in my hands, wondering how the child will turn out. Will it be a boy, or a girl? Will I make a good mother? Ah, I will really have to clean up my act. The way I behave, well, it's no good example for a little one. No more rushing into things headlong, no more flirting with charming thieves.

It's getting dark, so I suppose we will set up camp soon. I have to tell Alistair the truth about Cullen. It would be better for him to know before he actually meets my templar.

~*|'-'|*~

"Alistair, I would like to speak with you, if I may." I feel nervous. Hopefully he won't take this too badly.

He looks up at me from the log he's sitting on, a bowl of stew in his lap. "Sure, what is it?"

"I meant in private." I fidget about anxiously.

Picking up on my nervousness, he stands up. "All right, but I'm taking my food with me." We move out of earshot from the others. "What is it you want to talk about?" Alistair sits down on a rock and continues eating.

"I would like to… tell you something important. About Cullen, I mean." Oh dear, oh dear. How will he take this? Well, I guess I could consider this practice for telling my beloved about the baby. That's bound to be just as nerve-wracking.

"That sounds ominous," he says between mouthfuls.

"Uhm, yes." I sit down before him. "Well, I said I left my love at the tower. And you assumed he was a mage." I look up at him.

He arches an eyebrow and sets his bowl down on the ground. "Was I wrong?"

"Yes. He is not a mage." Now I hope he figures this out on his own. But knowing Alistair I might come away disappointed.

"So then, what is he?" I can almost hear the cogs in his head clicking industriously, working to get to a conclusion.

"Heh." It should be obvious by now. "What other group of people also occupies Kinloch Hold?"

Alistair's handsome face turns white as a sheet. "You don't mean…" It would seem the copper has dropped. He bolts up from his rock as if zapped by lightning. "A _templar_? You're a _mage_ , pregnant with a _templar's_ baby?" he wheezes in shock. I just nod at him. What more should I say? Alistair sits back down, clutching his heart and gasping. This is familiar. Oh yes, like the time I told Cullen I wanted him. "That is wrong on so many levels!" He appears to be talking to himself.

"You trusted me with your birthright, and so I trust you with this," I tell him, prying his hands away from his chest. I give them a gentle squeeze.

He looks down on me in shock. "How…?"

"How did we get together?" I smile to myself. A sweet memory. "Well, there was a rumour going around that he was in love with me. I'd always liked him, and I was very anxious to…" I cough. Let's not offend this boy's virgin ears. "I approached him with a proposition, which he at first turned down." I look up into my friend's eyes. They are now bright with curiosity. "You might think he is not worth much as a templar, falling for the likes of me. But he takes his job very seriously."

"The likes of you? What do you mean?" he asks me softly.

"Well, you know. A mage. One with rather loose morals." I think back to my proximity to Daveth before the Joining, his tongue in my mouth. I'm not the most honourable of women. A bloody bitch in heat is what I am.

"Well, yes, I wouldn't handle things quite the way you do, but you still manage to behave," my fellow Warden speaks, not without admiration.

"It's sweet how you think that. But anyway, he fell for my honeyed words. We kissed, we went a bit further, and before I knew it, I was lost. Lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his kisses, lost in all the sweet words he spoke to me…" I sigh and look into the distance. It's as if the events of that night are happening before my eyes.

"That sounds so romantic," he says with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Love is a strange thing. It doesn't discriminate based on your station in life, your age, your race. It just… happens." I remember how Jowan told me he'd fallen in love with Lily; walking past her in the evening while she was reciting the Chant of Light and truly hearing the beauty in the Chant for the first time because of her. A mage and a Chantry sister. A mage and a templar. Love isn't exactly convenient.

"Thank you for telling me this." Alistair pulls me up to hug me warmly.

"I'm glad you're taking this well," I chuckle. It feels good to get this off my chest, like a heavy weight has been lifted from my heart.

"How did you think I'd react? That I'd draw my sword, screaming of blasphemy, and behead you?" His voice sounds very light-hearted for such a comment.

"Well, no, but others might." I shudder. "Like the Knight-Commander." Now, Greagoir objected fiercely when Duncan took me away after letting Jowan escape. I think he wanted to have my head on a platter. Maybe even eat it. My reunion with him will certainly not be a happy one.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." Alistair plants a kiss atop my head.

"Thank you." I climb onto his lap for a proper cuddle.

After a while I get off him so he can finish eating. Speaking of which, my stomach's been rumbling for hours. I leave my friend to sit by the fire and help myself to some stew. When I'm down to my fifth bowl, Alistair joins me and holds out his hand to me. "Do you know what this is?" he asks. There's obviously a very pretty rose in the palm of his hand, the petals a deep velvety red.

I swallow my stew. "Uhm, is that a trick question?"

Alistair laughs. "Yes, I'm trying to trick you. Is it working? Aw, I just about had you, didn't I?" More seriously he continues: "I picked it in Lothering. I was wondering how something so beautiful could exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness."

"Wow, that's very poetic." I continue shovelling food down my throat in great quantities. Not very poetic. Probably a terrible sight too.

"Yeah, I'm a poet and I don't even know it," he chuckles. "Anyway, I wanted to give it to you. To tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this darkness."

For a moment, I'm stumped as I accept the rose from him. That is just so… infinitely sweet. "I… Well…" What should I say? "Thank you. That is so… I…" Oh, I have something for him too. I think I'll wait to give him his mom's amulet.

He grins contently. "You're welcome. I'm glad you like it." He holds out his hand. "Here, give it to me for a moment." When I've handed him the flower, he sticks it in my hair; I can feel the stem sliding over my scalp at the base of my bun. I'm glad he was thoughtful enough to remove any thorns. He makes a few more adjustments and a satisfied smile appears. "There, you look beautiful." He brings his shield before me so I can look at my reflection in its perfectly polished (albeit dented) surface.

The rose adds a delicate feminine touch to my hair. Ah, another pretty thing to please my beloved's eye with. Oh, Cullen. I hope you've been getting enough sleep. You're going to need your energy, my darling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends this Redcliffe portion.


	45. Return to the Circle - Sweet Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth has a delightful dream.

### Return to the Circle - Sweet Tooth

It's a bit dark, close to dusk. I'm in a clearing in a lush green forest. In the middle of the clearing is a long table, a crisp white tablecloth lain atop, illuminated by elaborate candelabra. And on that tablecloth, oh boy! Dishes with cakes, muffins, cookies, dainty pastries, bottles of wine and most importantly, many large jugs of fresh milk.

Obviously I'm dreaming. On the road we don't have the luxury of setting a table and eating pastries. This table is another fulfilment of a wish I have, no doubt. It beats the feverish dreams of darkspawn any day. Lately I've been aching to taste something sweet, next to my craving for milk. The sweetest thing I've tasted lately is a handful of berries Morrigan found for me, bless her. I appreciated the berries of course, but there is nothing like sinking your teeth into a freshly baked tartlet.

And now that I'm here, I might as well enjoy this copious meal. I run up to the table and grab a muffin. Mmm, chocolate! It seems like centuries ago since I've tasted chocolate. Oh, that gooey texture, that sweet goodness... Let's follow that up with some milk. A whole lot of milk! That creamy taste filling my mouth, yummy. This vanilla cookie is good too, sweet and crumbly. Sten once said he likes cookies. Too bad I can't take any with me.

"Hello, my love," I hear behind me. I turn around to face my guest. Cullen? I run up to him and wrap my arms around him in a hug.

"Are you another figment of my imagination?" I ruffle his hair with glee.

He nods. "Yes. It seems you crave more than only sweet things," he chuckles mischievously.

I look him up and down. He's in his heavy armour. Not the best of choices. "You are the sweetest thing here, you know." I hand him a pastry I think he'll like (puff pastry with a custard filling, yummy). "Eat, drink. Indulge in this sweetness before I finish it all myself."

He laughs and takes a bite. "Nice." For a while he contently munches away. Then he takes the liberty to pour some wine into a goblet and neatly sip it. Such manners.

"Why did you show up in that gear? You know you're going to have to take it off soon." I grab a bottle of wine and drink straight from it. Sure, I could use a goblet too but it's _my_ party, so I can be as barbaric as I want to be.

"It's your fantasy, sweetheart, not mine." Cullen grins wickedly and pulls off a gauntlet. "But I will do as you wish."

He begins stripping off his armour torturously slowly, revealing more and more bare skin as each part comes off. It appears he's not wearing anything underneath. A pleasant surprise.

I blindly tear a chunk off a beautifully decorated cake nearby and take small bites from it while I watch the image of my beloved slowly removing his armour for me. This cake is delicious! Vanilla and cherries, with a hint of brandy or something like that. Almost as delicious as Cullen's erection slowly coming into view as he teases his skirt off his hips.

"I should have dreams like this more often." I kneel before this vision of utter gorgeousness and grasp his hard-on with my frosting-stained hands. He moans when I twirl my tongue around the tip and roughly pushes my head farther down. The indescribable taste of his flesh mingles with the sweetness of the frosting my hands left on him. Now _that_ is delicious.

I take more and more of him into my mouth, making him almost squeal with joy. And then he grabs me by the back of my head to hold me in place while he enthusiastically thrusts into my mouth. This is new to me, and a bit uncomfortable. I gag with every thrust, but as I swallow, the urge to vomit disappears. Before long he begins throbbing in my mouth and expels a copious amount of bitter seed, groaning all the while.

I swallow all of it, relishing the bitterness. When he releases me, I rise and wipe my mouth, winking at him conspicuously. Cullen grins, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You know, I bet this wonderful milk would taste even better after something so bitter. I bring a jug of it to my lips and empty it with long draughts. Mmm.

"That's impressive," my visitor chuckles. He has a bottle of wine in his hands, from which he occasionally takes a sip. So much for those manners.

"I crave milk. The baby demands it!" I rub my stomach and hiccup.

"Can I feel it?" He stands before me and holds out his hands.

"Of course, my darling." I tear off another piece of cake and begin taking bites from it. I want to savour the flavour. That cherry, vanilla and boozy perfection... I'm just about having a gastronomic orgasm.

"I think I would be able to feel it better if you took off everything." And without further ado he rips my robes clean open. "That's payback for my shirt, little lady." He wags his finger at me in mock anger and has my bodice undergo the same cruel fate.

I can't help but laugh at this silly behaviour. "I only ripped one of your garments, and you did two of mine. How will you make up for it?" Now it's my turn to wag my finger.

He smiles and grabs my wrist to cover the tips of my fingers with little kisses. Every one of those tiny kisses sends flames coursing through my veins, his lips are like liquid fire on my skin. "Maybe like this?" he whispers hoarsely. He goes on pressing light kisses down the inside of my forearm. I can smell his familiar scent, sweet and minty, enveloping me.

The hand that's not on my arm has found its way up, cupping my breast gently. His fingers are quick to find my hard nipple and stroke it softly. My mind is going all fuzzy and I can almost feel wetness slowly trickling down the insides of my thighs. Oh, Maker's breath, but he's good at this.

And then his mouth is gone from my arm, latched onto my own mouth. I part my lips and his tongue plunges in, hungry and demanding, tasting of sweet wine and sweet desserts. It's been a long time since I've felt this. My knees are trembling so hard I need to lean against the table to stay standing. I want him inside me. Badly.

He releases my lips to start a wet trail down my sensitive neck, nipping and sucking. Every touch makes me moan loudly and without shame. I press my leg between his to find that he's as hard as stone again. My hand moves onto his erection and rubs vigorously, eliciting a low moan from his throat.

His lips are on the slopes of my breasts now, lightly brushing my skin. I whip back my head and almost scream when he takes my nipple between his lips, circling it with his tongue, nibbling it gently. My other nipple is rolled between his fingers. My body feels as hot as molten steel when his lips and fingers switch places, sending my mind into a fit of pure pleasure.

And then... Then my sweet templar showers my slightly protruding belly with kisses, rubbing his cheek against it and muttering to the baby. I can't quite hear what he's saying, but it's such an endearing sight. Cullen looks up at me, a gentle smile upon his lips. That smile turns into a wicked grin as he slides down my panties to rub his fingers between my wet nether lips. I nearly faint as two of his fingers slowly slip into me and I feel his tongue on my button, so soft and wet and warm.

I push his head deeper into my lap, revelling in feeling his tongue swiftly flicking against my pulsating button. I'm so bloody aroused my orgasm comes over me in mere moments. My body is enveloped in feeling of pure, unadulterated bliss while I claw at his scalp, screaming out my pleasure all the while. He whimpers, but bravely continues, pumping his fingers in and out of me, licking me slower and slower.

And when I stop panting like an exhausted hound, my beloved rises to meet my lips for a passionate kiss. I rather like how I can taste myself on his tongue. While our tongues are intertwined, I wiggle my legs to shed my panties and let my hands explore the smooth skin on his well-shaped torso.

"Take me." My throat feels thick with the pleasure that I just experienced, that I am experiencing still. Cullen smiles in response, his hands sliding down the small of my back to cup my behind and squeeze it.

I press my breasts against his chest, making him moan in delight. My nipples are hard enough to poke an eye out. Suddenly he spins me around and with a snarl, presses me against the table, pushing my upper body face down onto it. He unceremoniously enters me, stretching me out like I've not been stretched out for a long time. His marvellous cock fills me perfectly. Goodness gracious me. This feels _so_ good, I forget my manners. I've missed having something in me.

My darling thrusts into me hard and fast, grunting and groaning like a wild animal. I've never seen him quite this feral. I bloody _love_ it. It is as if we're mating like beasts; what's not to love about that? It only gets better when he bends his torso over mine and grabs my breasts, sinks his teeth into the scruff of my neck. I cry out in pain and pleasure as he squeezes my nipples mercilessly hard. Behind me I hear his ragged breathing, sometimes a growl. I close my eyes; nothing but darkness and the smells of sweet desserts and fresh sweat around me, the feeling of something hard pumping in and out of me.

One of his hands abandons my breast to curve around my hip. His searching fingers find my button, and I could swear they are made of pure energy, sending bolts of lightning coursing through my body with every stroke. In response my pelvis bucks backwards automatically and pushes him deeper into me. He releases my neck and… howls. Yes, howls. So, so sexy.

The sound he's making almost sets my senses on fire, the onslaught on my swollen little bump proves too much to take and I climax again. My entire body tenses, clenching my muscles around his hardworking member, as these waves of ecstasy swallow me up. Cullen stops his thrusting, his body very still. A raw cry comes out of him and I feel him throbbing fiercely within me, even swelling a little further. Ah, I know what this means. He groans as he comes in me, his body convulsing.

After a while he collapses onto me, sighing and panting. He shrinks within me and retreats, moving to stand beside me.

"You're good for an illusion." I stand up for a good stretch. My upper body's gone a tad stiff.

"You're not so bad yourself," Cullen chuckles. He grabs another bottle of wine from the table and drinks so greedily half of it spills out of his mouth and runs down his chest. Now _that_ I can hardly resist. I kneel before him and press my open mouth against his stomach to catch the falling liquid. He looks at me in surprise when I lick my way up his chest and snatch away his bottle to kiss him yet again.


	46. Return to the Circle - Sweet Tooth, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dream continues.

### Return to the Circle - Sweet Tooth, Pt. 2

His arms snake around my waist as our tongues play a feverish game with one another. Before long he picks me up and lays me down on the table, clearing several dishes of sweet goodness out of the way. Some of them fall to the ground, such waste. I watch my lover kick off his greaves (his only remaining garments) with great haste before joining me on the table. Oh my, what naughty things will we be doing now?

Smiling mischievously he scrapes icing off the cake I've already molested and dabs some onto my lips. I ostentatiously lick it off, eliciting a lustful grin from him. When he leans in to stick his tongue into my mouth again, I feel cool icing on my hot skin. He's applying it to my breasts, paying special attention to my nipples, in a line down my stomach; even on my nether lips do I feel the coolness.

My templar rises to look down on his handiwork, a satisfied smirk on his handsome features.

"So, are you going to finish your dessert like a good boy?" I ask him, trying to purr as seductively as I can. I think I'm doing all right.

He chuckles approvingly at my question. "Oh yes. And I'm going to enjoy it too." With that, he bends down to lick the sweet cream off my nipples. Andraste's mercy, that cool icing, his warm tongue; my eyes roll back into my head of their own accord. He follows the trail of sweetness down my stomach to between my legs. Apparently he's applied icing to my nether regions quite generously. For a long time his tongue swirls about, licking and sucking at my swollen lips and equally swollen button. Although his motions are erratic, he manages to make me come anyway. For the first time since all this began, I scream out his name and dig my nails into his shoulders. I'm almost going delirious with euphoria.

When he moves to enter me, I push him back. "No, no. I would like some dessert as well." I wag my finger at him and he compliantly lets me push him onto his back, his brown eyes gleaming with curiosity and lust.

Now, something chocolaty… I spy a chocolate cake a little farther ahead and scramble to return with a copious amount of chocolate icing on my hands. I think I have enough here to cover two Cullens with, from head to toe. He stares at the chocolate cream in my hands with a look that says "isn't that a bit much?" but what do I care? I love chocolate!

I begin by liberally slathering the stuff across his chest and down his stomach, coat his regained erection with it. He looks delicious; all he needs is a cherry here and there. And you know what? I think I'll just put those cherries on him. A batch of cupcakes nearby is littered with cherries and I pick them off, sticking one into his belly button and placing the rest on him randomly. Now he's perfect.

Cullen looks down on his decorated body with disbelief and glee, giggling at all the cherries. I dab a bit of chocolate to his nose and he tries desperately to catch it with his tongue. Oh Maker, that is just too funny. And adorable. I lick the chocolate off his nose and slip my sticky fingers into his mouth. He eagerly sucks off the icing, his tongue so warm and moist around my fingers.

"Aren't you a tasty dessert?" I whisper into his ear, teasingly sinking my teeth into the lobe. When I look up, I find he's already scraping frosting off his chest and eating it himself. I swat his hands away.

"Bad boy! That's mine you know." The look he sends my way is positively naughty, and maybe a bit rueful. I pick the cherry from his bellybutton with my mouth and dangle it above his face. He catches it between his lips, touching my own. The contact sends a pleasant tingle down my spine.

Leaving my sweetie alone with his cherry, I begin licking the icing off him, eagerly scraping entire mouthfuls away. It tastes even better mingled with the salty taste of sweat from his skin. Sometimes I eat a cherry, munching away the sweet flesh and spitting out the pip, sometimes I lick away chocolate, making him moan softly. Soon his torso is (mostly) free of frosting and there is but one place for me to clean.

His member looks so attractive, all covered in chocolate. Those two might be my two favourite things in all of Thedas: chocolate and penises. And now combined too! I'm ready to burst with joy. I bend down and swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up that chocolaty goodness. My lover and I moan almost simultaneously. More penis and more chocolate disappear into my mouth, more clean skin and less chocolate come back out. If this isn't the ideal way to enjoy these delicacies, I don't know what is. Before long I have finished my delicious dessert.

"Well then, what should I do now?" I slowly lick icing off my fingers, sending a questioning look Cullen's way.

"I have another treat for you," he speaks hoarsely. In an obscene and rather enticing gesture he grabs his erect member at the base and well, offers it to me. It's an offer I can't refuse.

I straddle his hips and look down on his sticky, chocolate smudged form. My lips are curved upwards in what I hope to be a seductive smile. "For me? Oh, I'm getting spoiled today."

Holding it in place with my hand, I slowly, slowly lower myself onto his erection. We stare into each other's eyes, both moaning softly, both blushing fiercely. Soon he is in me all the way, so hard, so _perfect_ … I throw back my head and utter a loud cry; I just can't help it.

His hands creep up my sides, up my ribcage, to hold my breasts and squeeze them, rolling my nipples between his fingers. I let him slip out of me a bit, then push him back in hard. Cullen takes in sharp hissing breaths as I ride him, the squeezing motions of his hands becoming more and more vehement. I will have bruises on me tomorrow for sure. He fills me so well. With every thrust of my hips, my body gets sent further into bliss. And then he begins thrusting upwards in perfect harmony with me and it's almost as if I'm floating on air.

When he begins throbbing inside me, I reach between my legs to swiftly stroke my button. I'm so damned aroused; if I hurry, I can come together with him. That would be a grand finish. My climax builds up quickly. It's right on time; Cullen groans and shudders beneath me as mad pleasure travels through every fibre in my body.

My breathing calms down and I roll off to flop onto my back next to my dearest templar. I look over to him. "Wow... I could just do this every day."

He locks eyes with me and his face splits into an impossibly wide grin, lighting up his beautiful eyes. "Yeah…" He looks exactly how I feel: immensely content.


	47. Return to the Circle - Sweet Tooth, Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the dream continues.

### Return to the Circle - Sweet Tooth, Pt. 3

But then it hits me: none of this is real. I can't help but feel sad and broken, tears streaming down my face. I've not seen Cullen for months and that just tears me apart from the inside out. The illusion next to me takes me into his arms, running his hands up and down my back in long strokes. For a long time I continue to cry in soundless sobs. "I miss you so much."

"I know, love, I know." And then he tentatively presses his lips on mine. All of it feels so real, so heart-wrenchingly real. His mouth moves away from mine to cover my face with soft, gentle kisses. I can only sigh under his touch and close my eyes. His fingers trace the curve of my spine slowly, finishing their journey on the small of my back. I can feel him harden against me. Gently he guides himself into me. The way he fills me makes my head spin with desire, makes me gasp in pleasure. "You feel so warm," he breathes. "So soft." His hand moves down my leg to caress my thigh. I wrap my legs around him, enjoying the feel of him inside me. We gaze into each other's eyes. The love and affection that fill those eyes... It nearly breaks my heart. While our lips meet again for another long, tender kiss, Cullen manages to sit up with me, skilfully keeping our bodies connected. I've never been in this position before; I'm sitting on his lap, arms and legs wrapped around him, he sitting cross-legged, his erection buried deep within me. He feels so good, so perfect. I throw back my head and try to keep my moaning as demure as I can, but it's _so_ difficult. When his lips trail down my neck and he whispers: "Don't try to keep quiet. Let me hear you," do I dare to scream with joy and pleasure. This is too much, real or not.

"Do you wish me to move?" I'm panting like a happy dog, my voice hoarse and throaty.

"Please." I am more than happy to fulfil his request and grind my hips against his, slowly and carefully at first, but faster and harder when his hands close around my breasts and fondle them. Our cries mingle as I continue to rock my hips to experience that marvellous friction, my eyes closed to drown out anything else but the feeling of his body.

His lips trail even lower and he arches his back to touch his warm tongue to my breasts in erratic patterns, suck on my nipples and sometimes bite down into my tender flesh. But soon he straightens his back again and covers my mouth with his own, pulling my upper body against his. I can feel his heartbeat, strong and quick; it echoes the beating of my own heart. He takes over from me, thrusting his pelvis upwards and sends my body flying into ecstasy.

The soft throbbing tells me he is close to his release and I open my eyes to find him staring back at me. His eyes are half-closed, a deep shade of red colouring his cheeks, a single drop of sweat trickling down the side of his face, all so sensuous. From his expression I can tell he's straining not to come. This time I want to see his face. "Don't hold back," I whisper into his ear. I sit up straight to look him in the eye and cup his face in my hands. "Come. Fill me with your seed."

His eyes widen with shock and surprise upon hearing my filthy words. "Don't... speak like that," he chokes out. Right before his eyes roll back into his head and his mouth opens for a raw, long-drawn scream. His member is throbbing violently inside me, his fingers digging painfully into my hips, but that beautiful expression on his face makes everything so worthwhile.

After some time the throbbing recedes and his breathing slows. His chest heaves with every breath. "That was amazing." His voice sounds so adoring I could almost cry.

"Indeed it was." I caress his cheek and briefly kiss him. "Tomorrow I will see you, and you had best be ready for me."

Cullen utters a hearty laugh. "I will be, I'm sure. Where are you now?"

"We are camped close to the tower. We'll get there by midday tomorrow." I know already that my body will be screaming for a man's touch as soon as I wake up, whenever I think of this. Of him.

He fondly caresses my cheek and kisses me. "Don't be sad, my love. Everything will be fine."

"Yes, it will be." I smile, all possible scenarios of what I will do with the real Cullen playing through my mind. I hope he didn't skip breakfast by the time I get to him, because he will need the energy of the most important meal of the day.


	48. Return to the Circle - Half-Naked Robes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair has a request; Astoreth in turn has a question for him.

### Return to the Circle - Half-Naked Robes

"Astoreth..." A male voice is softly calling my name, nudging my shoulder. I groan. I don't want to wake up; I want to dream a bit more of frantic lovemaking, covered in cake. Last night's dream was… magical almost. I enjoyed licking all that chocolate off him. Mmm, yes, especially off _it_ , if you get my meaning. But as Alistair continues speaking my name and shaking me lightly, I guess such dreams are for another time.

"What is it?" I crack my eyes open and see him looming over me, ridiculously large in the small space of my tent. I bet Morrigan made some nasty comments about him coming in here, if she saw. Such a handsome fellow he is. And I'm really horny too. My hands are practically itching to get under his shirt and stroke every bit of bare skin I can find, to peel those pants off him and... No, bad Astoreth!

"I know it's not the best of times to be thinking about this, but I'd like to ask you something." He looks nervous, fidgeting about. I yawn and sit up, try to rub the sleep from my eyes.

"What's on your mind?" It seems rather important, or maybe embarrassing, if he's so nervous.

"Well..." He clears his throat. "Chances are we'll be heading to Denerim soon, and I wonder if we might be able to look someone up when we're there." He eyes me expectantly, a pink flush adorning his cheeks.

Now I'm curious. "Who might that be, a friend of yours?" I am tempted to say lover, but surely he wouldn't have stayed a virgin if he'd had one of those.

Alistair chuckles awkwardly. "I don't mean a friend, exactly. And it's not that sort of friend either!" he protests upon seeing my raised eyebrows. Well, if one says he doesn't exactly mean a friend, what am I supposed to think?

"The thing is, I have a sister," he continues. "A half-sister, Goldanna is her name. My mother had a daughter, but I never knew of her. I don't think she knew about me either, but after I Joined I did some checking, and well... I found out she's still alive." The hopeful expression on his handsome face is just so adorable. "In Denerim!"

I give him a nod and he goes on talking, his expression suddenly grave. "With the Blight coming and everything, I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to see her. And she's the only family I have left, so..."

"Sure, we'll go see your sister when we're in Denerim. I promise." I smile at him and he does the same, his smile so bright it nearly blinds me.

"That would be great!" he says happily. "I don't know if I could forgive myself if something happened to her and I never went to at least see her."

"Don't you worry about that. I'll make sure you will meet her." I pat his shoulder.

"Thank you. We should be breaking up camp and leave, so I'll leave you to it." He moves to exit my tent.

"Before you go, let me ask you something, Alistair."

His head turns in my direction. "Yes? What can I do for you?"

"Imagine you're Cullen, yes? Would you rather see me in the black robes, or the pale green ones I wore before?" I hope this doesn't get awkward; it's kind of a personal question.

He laughs. "How should I know how he wants to see you? I don't even know the guy!"

"Then what would _you_ prefer to see me in?" Sure, that is not personal at all...

His expression grows pensive as he seems to mull my question over, chewing his lip in thought. "Then definitely the green ones," he finally says with a wide grin, a mischievous glint in his eye, his cheeks a deep shade of red. The boy's getting a bit bolder, ha.

"Thank you." I wink at him and he puts up his thumbs before crawling out of my tent. The half-naked robes it is then.


	49. Return to the Circle - A Giant Phallus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tower is finally in sight.

### Return to the Circle - A Giant Phallus

I'm so nervous. I dolled myself up especially for my templar. Put on my old half-naked robes, borrowed some of Morrigan's lip pigment, have Alistair's rose in my hair, pinched my cheeks to look like a blushing maiden. These robes still fit, but only barely. It would appear my chest has grown a bit too; I didn't notice before but the old bosom pokes out a bit farther now. I aim to drive my beloved almost mad with desire and I think I look the part.

Looking at Kinloch Hold rising up out of Lake Calenhad, I can't help but feel there might be something wrong. You know, when we went to Redcliffe I thought well, we will see the arl, talk to the man and hope for his support. But no, the town was suffering from nightly attacks by living dead. And the arl's little boy is possessed by a demon and the man himself has been poisoned. What will we encounter here? An outbreak of the sniffles? Pink ponies running amok? Evil bunnies maybe?

"How very fitting that they would build a prison for mages in the middle of a lake and make it look like a giant phallus," Morrigan scoffed next to me upon seeing the tower. Yeah, come to think of it, it does look like a bit phallic. I will never look at my former home the same way again. I mean, I just found out I lived most of my life inside a giant penis. Heh, penis.

I remember that the last time, Duncan and I were ferried over by some portly man by the name of Kester. He was nice; kept talking up a storm during the trip across the lake. But apparently he's been decommissioned by none other than Greagoir. Because something is amiss in the tower. I bloody knew it.

To keep people out, or to only let certain people enter, a templar has been put in charge of the ferry. I think I know this guy. He had a rather girl-like name. Carrie? Carla? Ah yes, Carroll. I've seen him about in the tower.

"Hey, I know you!" he yells as soon as we approach. "That girl Cullen was always going on about. Look at you, all grown up." His eyes linger on my chest. I'm starting to get used to it. Oh, Cullen. Just hearing his name stabs me like a sharp knife. I desperately want to see him.

"Hello, Carroll." I raise my hand in greeting. "We'd like to get across."

"No one gets to the tower! No one! The tower is off-limits to all!" he says, waving his arms around.

Yes, of course. Something is wrong. "I'm a Grey Warden, and I need to speak with the Circle."

"Oh, you're a Grey Warden, are you? Prove it." He looks at me, daring me to do something. Well, who am I to disappoint him?

"See this?" I point to my pendant filled with darkspawn blood, resting delicately above my cleavage. "This means I'm a Grey Warden." I fold my arms beneath my breasts, slightly pressing them together. As I suspected, the fool's gaze isn't fixed to my pendant but directly below it. He's almost drooling. "Will you take us there now? Please?" I don't even have to bat my eyes at him; he just nods absently. I'm not even sure if he heard my honey-coated words. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm so damned smooth.

"You know very well how to use your charms," Leliana whispers into my ear, her voice laced with admiration and for some reason, pride.

"Thank you," I whisper back, patting her arm.

"Come along, I suppose," Carroll mumbles. When we all get in a single file to get into the boat, he begins protesting. "Hey whoa, not all of you! This boat will only hold four others."

"Then perhaps you would like to stay here, Morrigan? I'd like to spare you the sight of all these mages huddled together in that tower like sheep in a corral. It's not pretty." I'd actually like to spare myself her whining about how mages let the Circle and the Chantry rob them of their freedom, blah, blah, blah. Not everyone gets to grow up in the Korcari Wilds under the tutelage of an ancient abomination. If she truly is who she claims to be, that is.

She sighs, knowing full well why I want her to stay behind. "Very well. I suppose your mangy beast will have to keep me company then?"

Stubbs barks and looks at me expectantly. I nod to him and he begins leading Morrigan away to the inn, carefully holding her wrist in his mouth. Mabari are awesome.

I throw the witch my coin purse. "Get yourself a nice room!" She deftly catches it, shoots me a mean glare and begins complaining to Stubbs how she is perfectly able to walk to the inn herself and he need not guide her. Of course my war hound, proud beast as he is, will not take no for an answer. I love him so.

Guess that settles it then. Off we go to the tower. My old home.


	50. Return to the Circle - Save the Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugely unexpected plot twist: things are amiss in the tower. Oh noes!

### Return to the Circle - Save the Circle

Templars are running around frantically and the Knight-Commander himself (oh joy of joys) is standing in the entrance hall, apparently giving instructions to one of his subordinates. I hear him saying something about keeping the doors closed. Well, that's not good.

"The doors are barred," Alistair remarks astutely. "Are they keeping people out, or in?" I am wondering that myself. Oh Maker, please don't let it be something terrible.

Upon hearing Alistair speak, Greagoir turns in our direction. "I don't have time to entertain visitors." The exhausted look on his face turns utterly sour when he sees me. "Well, look who's back. A proper Grey Warden now, are we? Glad you're not dead."

"Oh yes, I can tell how much you mean that. So what is the matter?" Please let it be something non-lethal!

The Knight-Commander sighs. "I shall speak plainly: the tower is no longer under our control. Demons and abominations stalk the tower's halls."

The news hits me like a bolt of lightning. Demons and abominations? No... Cullen could be dead, Daniela could be dead. Everyone could be dead. This is worse than I could've ever imagined. "And now what? What will you do?"

"I have sent word to Denerim, calling for reinforcements and the Right of Annulment," Greagoir replies.

"The Right of Annulment?" I feel the urge to grab the man by the shoulders and shake him. "You want to exterminate the entire Circle?"

Alistair lays a hand on my arm. "The mages are probably already dead. Any abominations in there must be dealt with no matter what," he says softly.

"The situation is dire. There is no alternative – everything in the tower must be destroyed so it can be made safe again." The Knight-Commander doesn't seem to have much regret, wanting to murder everyone he was supposed to watch over. Well, I never...

"I think not. I will go in and try to save whoever I can, demons and abominations be damned!" I feel ready to explode with anger. Right of Annulment, humph. I'm going to annul his face if he keeps up this attitude.

"I assure you, an abomination is a force to be reckoned with…"

"Well, so are we!" Ah, but here I am being impulsive again. Still, I don't want the entire Circle to be annulled. If I have to put us in danger, so be it. We are a tiny army after all. Besides, the Circle cannot help us exorcise that demon from Connor if they are annulled, now can they?

Seeing my determination, Greagoir sighs. "A word of caution: once you pass that threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. Only when the First Enchanter stands before me and tells me it is over, will I believe it."

I nod. "Understood."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Alistair mumbles behind me. Sten is grumbling; no doubt thoughts about how we are making the darkspawn and the Blight wait are crossing his mind. I don't hear a peep out of Leliana. She's probably already thinking of a way to turn this into a story for her collection. Frankly, I have _some_ doubts about this. There are only four of us here, and this tower is vast. But then the doors close behind us and there is no way back. We will save the tower, or die trying. Well, at least Morrigan and Stubbs are still safe. Our footsteps echo in the marble halls, so strangely empty.

Ah, the apprentice quarters. This takes me back, seeing the chamber I used to sleep in. When we were little, Jowan would often crawl into bed with me and we'd talk until we fell asleep. It got a bit awkward when we grew up, so we stopped doing that at some point. It's too bad those times had to end. Anyway, why am I reminiscing? There is a tower to save here. Just look at this place, the furniture has fallen over, dead bodies on the floor. They are burnt and charred beyond all recognition. Incredibly sad. I guess I should count myself lucky I wasn't here when this all happened. Would Daniela be dead too? I certainly hope not, but she might be.

A little farther ahead we hear children screaming and we run to their aid, only to find a white-haired elderly lady defeating a demon. Her red robes mark her as a senior enchanter. Very impressive. There are a few other mages here too, and some very young apprentices. All of them are quite shaken up, understandably.

The senior enchanter turns to us. "You? You've returned to the tower?" A look of recognition flashes in her eyes. Do I know her? Wait, I think I do. "Why did the templars let you through? Are you here to warn us?"

I met her at Ostagar, spoke with her briefly. I recall she called Cailan a puppy. "Wynne, right? Warn you about what?" It would seem she already knows about the demon threat in here.

"Do the templars intend to attack us? They would only open the doors if they do." The poor woman looks incredibly anxious.

"They are waiting for the Right of Annulment." Wynne shakes her head sadly at the news. "What has happened here anyway?"

"Let it suffice to say that we had something of a revolt on our hands, led by a mage named Uldred. He tried to take over the Circle after returning from Ostagar," Wynne explains. Take over the Circle? This is certainly a brilliant time to do that, what with the Blight threatening Ferelden and everything. Yes, just brilliant. "As you can see, it didn't work out as he had planned. I don't know what became of Uldred, but I am certain this is all his doing. I will not lose the Circle to one man's pride and stupidity," she says resolutely.

"Well, we are here to help, so do you have any suggestions?" I am quite anxious myself to clear this place. And my morbid curiosity wants to know what an abomination looks like, what I could've become had I failed my Harrowing.

"I erected a barrier over the door leading further so nothing inside could attack the children," Wynne says, pointing to the door. Only then do I see the barrier of blue crackling energy over it. How could I have missed that? "I will dispel it if you join with me to save the Circle."

After seeing her finish off that demon, I am more than happy to. "Agreed. Let's get going right now."

With a wave of her hand, Wynne dispels the barrier and the energy disappears. Introductions are made and soon we are off. So now there are five of us. I'm becoming surer and surer that we can save the Circle.


	51. Return to the Circle - Coming Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A comic interlude before shit gets serious.

### Return to the Circle - Coming Out

I swear I cannot take any more of this. With every dead templar I see lying on the ground, my heart shrinks. So far Cullen wasn't among them, but any of them could have been him. I pray he is all right, but I must be prepared for the worst. Alistair's been casting me worried glances and Leliana looks puzzled whenever I rip the helmet off a dead templar and sigh in relief when it's not Cullen. I suppose I should tell her, but now is hardly the time. The tower is a mess. Blood, death and ash everywhere, disgusting sacks of flesh lining the walls. We've encountered abominations ( _not_ pretty), demons of several types, blood mages, walking dead even. We could be attacked at any time.

Owain was still in the stock room, surrounded by death, but otherwise as fine as a Tranquil could ever be. Apparently one Niall came by earlier to collect the Litany of Adralla. If I remember correctly, that offers protection against the mind domination blood mages use. It would be of great help if we found this thing. I remember Niall: I spoke to this fellow shortly after my Harrowing and he bored me with some dry facts about different factions of mages and their opinion on our relationship with the Chantry. I almost fled that conversation. Owain said he was trying to tidy the place up, but had been unsuccessful so far. We left him there, because he wanted to be in a familiar place. Tranquil are so _strange_.

Ah, not a moment's rest do we get. Three abominations are storming towards us, clamouring for our deaths. I'm not going to indulge them, no ser. The first is quickly knocked down by Alistair's shield, after which the Warden mercilessly stabs his sword through its heart. Sten has engaged the second; its head flies into a corner of the room after mere seconds, while Wynne, myself and Leliana pelt the third with projectiles: Wynne and I use arcane energy, Leliana peppers the bastard with arrows.

Only when the abominations are dead, do I notice where we are. "My old room!" Look at that. My bed is in shambles, book cases toppled over, the carpet stained with blood and scorch marks. Quite the homecoming.

The closet in the corner is strangely untouched. I wonder if something of mine is still in there, or maybe something I could use. Breathing noises…

I knock on the door. "Anyone in here?"

"Is it safe to come out?" a muffled man's voice asks.

I nod, but of course he can't see that. "Yes, come on out." A brown-haired mage steps out of the closet and stretches, making all kinds of strained noises. "Are you all right?" We don't really have time for this, but you don't see someone coming out of a closet every day.

"I have a crick in my back and my bum's gone numb. Holy Maker!" He looks around incredulously. "Those demons didn't know what hit them, did they?" Amusingly enough, the mage does a curtsy. "Godwin, mage of the Circle of Ferelden, at your service."

"I hope that means you will help us save the Circle." Just a tentative suggestion. I don't hold much hope; after all, I'm speaking with a guy who was hiding in a closet.

"No, no. I just want to be somewhere safe. I think I'll just stay in here a while and see what happens." He sets one foot back inside the closet. "Thank you for saving me. May we meet again, in happier, less life-threatening times." And with that he gets back into his hiding place and closes the door behind him.

"And so Godwin's attempt to come out of the closet fails miserably," Alistair declares with a dramatic gesture. Leliana goes into a fit of laughter and Wynne chuckles, half-amused. Sten sends me a look that has "What is so funny?" written all over it. I shrug. It _isn't_ all that funny.

Apparently Godwin isn't very happy with Alistair's statement. "I'm not gay!" A brief pause. "And I'm not in denial either!"

Hee, now that _is_ funny.


	52. Return to the Circle - Dazed but Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The intrepid adventurers find a demon and her templar.

### Return to the Circle - Dazed but Happy

The First Enchanter's office. I hopefully open the door; maybe Irving is in here? But no, he isn't. Of course not. That would be too good to be true, wouldn't it? And if I've learned anything from our adventures so far, it's that nothing ever comes easy.

Now that we're here I might as well raid the place. Surely Irving won't mind. And if he does, well, that's just too bad for him. First, the closet. Oh, these robes are nice, but they are meant for a man. These are coming with me because I can put them on as soon as I'm too huge to fit into my regular robes.

"Hey, look at this." Alistair, who was enthusiastically rummaging through a chest near the desk, hands me a book. It's bound in black leather, the words _Black_ _Grimoire_ written by hand on the first page. Must be a book of spells, or something. Flipping through the pages, most of it doesn't make any sense to me. What I do get, is that the magic in here is rather dark. "I'm sure Morrigan would like this," my fellow Warden remarks casually. Strange for him to suggest giving Morrigan anything, but he is right. Dark magic is right up that woman's alley.

"You're right. Are you beginning to like her?" I wink and nudge him in the ribs with my elbow. His face immediately flushes.

"I will never like her!" he sputters.

I give him a little pat on the shoulder. "It was just a little joke, Alistair. I know how much you two dislike each other." They squabble so often, it's like they're a married couple. But I'm sure Morrigan would turn me into dust if I ever said that aloud.

"Good," Alistair grumbles and dives right back into the chest. I'm pretty much done here and Leliana and Wynne have also finished perusing the books. As always, Sten is standing at attention. When Alistair is done digging through the contents of that chest, we can continue.

~*|'-'|*~

In the Templar Quarters we are greeted by a rather unnerving sight. A very seductive female demon (I would've enjoyed my Harrowing better if one of _them_ had followed me around instead of that Mouse) and a templar are talking with one another. I can hear her say things about children and tucking them into bed and whatnot. From the way the man doesn't even notice us, it would appear she has him entranced, caught in an illusion, I don't know.

"Sooo… What's going on in here?"

As soon as I've asked my question, the templar says: "Do you hear something, love?" He doesn't see us though, just looks straight through us. His demon shushes him with sweet words and turns towards me.

"You are intruding upon a loving, intimate moment and I dislike disruptions." Even with that slight anger in her voice, she sounds seductive. And that outfit, wow. All she's wearing is a necklace that also serves as a nipple-covering for her perfectly round breasts, a pair of frilly sleeves and an equally frilly pair of trousers that barely hide her goodies from prying eyes. And here I thought Morrigan was dressed revealingly. The demon even has a tail; imagine the things one could do with that. Mmm.

"That templar is under some spell of yours, isn't he?"

"Happiness is bewitching. There is a certain power in all things mortals delight in," the demon coos, running her hand up her breast. Gulp. I don't know if she does that on purpose or if it's just a habit her kind has, but it kind of excites me. This must be a desire demon, judging from the way she affects me. Wait, does this mean I'm...? Oh, like it matters.

"But he is in an illusion, a lie." I can't help but feel intrigued. I know that demons are usually very bad for one's health, but this templar just looks so… happy. Dazed, but happy.

"I have given him what he always wanted. Where is the harm in that?" She moves behind her prey and almost lovingly strokes his arm.

"What you've done to him is abhorrent!" Wynne says indignantly.

"I saw his loneliness and longing for a family that loved him," the demon replies, unfazed.

"A family where the wife and children are in reality the same person… thing. That there defines creepy," Alistair says with shock in his voice.

"How long will you keep him in this stupor? Will he know it when his body fails and death claims him?" Wynne is almost blowing smoke out of her ears; this situation really seems to anger her.

"A short, blissful existence is preferable to an interminable one of misery." The demon smiles and runs a clawed finger along her templar's cheek. It almost looks as if she really cares about him. But what she just said… It sounds very reasonable. If I had died after my first night with Cullen, well, I'd have died a very happy woman.

"He certainly looks blissful," Leliana remarks, her voice filled with amazement.

Still, I wonder if that templar really is in such a blissful existence. "Might I speak with him? Just convince him I'm your nosey neighbour woman or something."

The demon chuckles, apparently amused by my suggestion. "It is done."

"Hello my friend, how are you?" I yell and clap the templar on the shoulder.

His vacant gaze shifts to me and he smiles. A little strained, I might add. It would seem he is convinced I am not only nosey but also annoying. "Good day to you, miss."

"So how are you feeling?" I lower my voice to a hushed tone. "Your wife tells me you haven't been yourself lately."

"Not myself?" He looks at me quizzically and laughs. "The children have so much energy they drain me sometimes, chasing them around the house. But otherwise I feel fine." He chuckles a little to himself. I'm becoming more and more convinced this illusion is doing him good. I mean, I'm sure an existence of watching over usually boring mages in a cold tower isn't all it's cracked up to be.

"Ah yes, I know how children can be. She really is something, isn't she, that wife of yours?" I nudge him in the ribs and wink conspicuously. "I bet she makes you _very_ happy."

The templar raises his eyebrows at the suggestive tone of my voice but laughs anyway, a bit awkwardly. This gossipy, annoying neighbour thing kind of suits me. Which is rather frightening, if you think about it. "She certainly is, and she certainly does," the templar replies, his tone full of affection.

I study his face. He looks so happy. Damn, I'm almost jealous. "Well then, I must be off. Say hello to the family for me."

The templar nods. "I will. Goodbye."

"That is quite an elaborate illusion you have crafted for him." I am thoroughly impressed. "Very well. I will leave you be, if you do the same for us."

The demon nods contently. "This I will do. I vow to do no harm to you, nor those who travel with you. You have my thanks, if that means anything to you. You will not see us again." The kiss she blows me makes me shiver. Not with fear exactly.

"Come, my pet," she tells the templar. "We are going for a walk. The children want you to show them all the stars in the night sky."

With a happy smile the man offers her his arm, she accepts it and as they walk out of the room, a puff of smoke engulfs them and they disappear, hopefully to be never seen again. Before they evaporated though, I caught the templar speaking about "that annoying woman next door". Damn, I'm good.

"Why did you allow them to leave?" Wynne bristles at me. "What she is doing to him…"

"Would you rather have killed him instead? I have no doubts that if we'd attacked her, we'd have to kill him too. And trust me, I know happiness when I see it." And that was one happy man.

The senior enchanter sighs in resignation. "You are right. Forgive me, dear."

Alistair looks uneasy, but says nothing. Sten nods at me approvingly, as does Leliana. Well, I'm glad they don't question my judgment overmuch.


	53. Return to the Circle - Frantic Fragments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, surprise: the Grey Wardens and co. are trapped in the sloth demon's domain. What else is new?

### Return to the Circle - Frantic Fragments

More strain on my poor heart. So many templars assaulted us here, so many we had to kill. Thankfully Cullen wasn't among them, but I expect to come across his dead body any time now. I feel ready to scream and cry, but I have to keep it together. Now is certainly not the time to break down and lose it. Especially not when we have an abomination to fight. It is standing over a mage's body; I can't tell if he's alive or dead, but he's not moving and his eyes are open. That's Niall, if I'm not mistaken.

"Oh look, visitors," the abomination drawls as it turns to greet us. "I'd entertain you, but… too much effort involved." Its voice sounds utterly lazy and bored. But also bewitching, somehow. That voice reminds me of the lazy bear demon I met during my Harrowing. He called himself a demon of sloth. Is this abomination possessed by one?

"What have you done to him?" I point to the body at its feet.

"He is just resting. Poor lad was so very, very weary. You want to join us, don't you?" The abomination's voice drowns out everything else. His words are almost like a lullaby. Suddenly I feel so tired. "Wouldn't you like to just lay down and… forget about all this? Leave it all behind?" Oh boy, would I. I just want to sleep. Forget the Blight, forget the… Say what now? Have you finally lost your mind, Astoreth formerly-known-as-Amell? Fight the sleepiness, damn it! "Why do you fight? You deserve more… You deserve a rest. The world will go on without you."

No, don't go to sleep! We have stuff to do, although, I can't remember what it was again. I have to close my eyes, just for a moment. So bloody sleepy…

~*|'-'|*~

How do we end up in these crazy situations? I remember fragments of a frantic run through the Fade; first I was caught in my own dream. Supposedly the Blight was over and I was in Weisshaupt Fortress enjoying my retirement. Duncan was there, and two other Wardens I'd never seen before. I had to kill them to escape.

And then... A Fade pedestal. It was a means to travel to different islands in the domain of the sloth demon that rules here. Niall was trapped there too. He was pretty hopeless; I mean, he wouldn't help me with actions, only with information. So I milked him for all he was worth. Turned out the sloth demon was in the centre island, surrounded by five islands that block it. Each island was ruled by a lesser demon under its command. All those demons had to die before I would be able to get to the sloth demon.

It was reasonably easy to kill them. That is, as soon as I was able to change into either a mouse, some kind of spirit, a flaming walking corpse or a golem. That's right: I did some shapeshifting. It's surprisingly easy, as long as you find the right people to teach you. I know Morrigan is a shapeshifter; maybe she would be willing to teach me as well? I doubt I will be able to turn into something else when I get out of this rotten place.

And killing these demons wasn't the only thing I had to do. No, I also had to release the others from the dream they were caught in, mostly by myself. Long story short: Alistair was dreaming he was leading a happy family life with his sister and her children, Leliana dreamt she was back at the Chantry, Wynne was stuck in a nightmare of dead apprentices surrounding her and Sten was with two of his old Qunari companions. Turns out Sten isn't actually his name, but his rank in his people's army. At any rate, the illusions had to be overcome violently and even then I didn't get my companions back; they disappeared soon after. Well, at least they're not stuck in their dreams anymore. So now I'm standing in front of the sloth demon, still alone.

"What have we here? A rebellious minion? An escaped slave?" it says in that lazy voice.

"You ser, are extremely ugly." Just look at it: a desiccated corpse with lips shrivelled so far away its teeth are constantly bared in a hideous grin; tattered robes; long, clawed fingers. Not my idea of sexy.

"My, my, you have some gall." The demon chuckles. "But playtime is over. You all have to go back now."

"Oh, here I am. And there you are!" I hear Alistair say behind me. "You just disappeared. Well, no matter."

"You tried to keep us apart. You led us from each other because you fear us, don't you?" Leliana taunts his ugliness with her lovely voice.

"I am here," Sten says, dryly as always. "And it is time to finish this. I have had enough of cages."

"You will not hold us, demon!" Wynne bristles. She sounds as angry as she did when we encountered that female demon. "We found each other in this place and you cannot stand against us!"

"Yeah! What they said!" I firmly place my free hand on my hip and pound my staff on the ground. Maker, am I glad they showed up here.

"If you go back quietly, I'll do better this time. I will make you much happier." The demon still speaks in his bored voice, seemingly not worried by our rebellion. I wonder if it can show actual emotion.

"No, thank you. I will make my own happiness." I do hope Cullen is still all right. If not, this happiness might be a tad more difficult to get to.

"Can't you think about someone other than yourself? I'm hurt, so very hurt," sloth speaks with an audible pout.

"Aw, boohoo!" I ostentatiously wipe imaginary tears from my eyes. "You're almost making me cry." I point my staff in his direction in what I hope is a menacing gesture. "Just die already."

"You wish to battle me?" The demon chuckles again. "Very well. You will learn to bow to your betters, mortal!"

It lets out a frightful roar and transforms. Into an ogre. Ieh, that brings back some nasty memories. I thoroughly despise ogres.

~*|'-'|*~

Now that it's over, I'm certainly relieved the others were just in time to kill sloth together with me. Had I been alone, I probably would not have survived. This was a battle I will try to forget as quickly as possible, same with my traipsing through the Fade. It was highly unpleasant. Just when we thought the ogre was going down, it turned into something else and so on and so on, until the demon finally faced us in his own form.

That was the most terrible of all, especially when he summoned that blizzard. I could hardly see a thing and it was _so cold_. I nearly ran out of mana a few times, but conveniently there were lyrium veins around that both Wynne and I could use. And now it's dead, lying at my feet as a broken mess. Just deserts!

Suddenly Niall pops up. "You defeated the demon!" He looks incredulously at the corpse. "I never expected you to free us." He swallows uncomfortably. "When you return, take the Litany from... my body. It will protect you against the worst of the blood magic." How very sad he sounds.

"Your body? You mean you're dying?"

"Yes. Every minute I was here, the demon used my life to fuel this nightmare. There is too little of me left." He sighs sadly. "I was never meant to save the Circle. I'm no hero. Perhaps trying to be one was foolish."

"No, don't say that." I lay a hand on his arm. He's cold as death. "You did a lot to help the Circle."

"Maybe you're right. Before I was taken to the Circle, my mother said I was meant for greatness, that I was more than my ancestors could ever have dreamed." Another sad sigh escapes him. "I hope I didn't disappoint her."

I smile at him in a way I hope looks encouraging. "I am sure she is very proud of you, Niall. Are you sure there is nothing I can do for you?"

A look of gratitude flashes over his features. "Thank you, but it's too late for me. I do not fear what may come. They say we return to the Maker in death, and that isn't such a terrible thing." Niall smiles at me, seemingly at peace. "Now it's time for both of us to be on our way. The Circle is the only thing that matters now. Thank you, and goodbye, friend."

And then everything around us crumbles. Next thing I know, I'm lying on a floor that's sticky with blood. Now my robes are definitely ruined. Around me the others have awoken as well. The abomination lies died, as does Niall. A search of his pockets yields the Litany of Adralla, our weapon against the blood mages. As a last courtesy I close his lifeless eyes. What a way to go.

Watch out, Uldred. We're coming to get you...


	54. Return to the Circle - A Shitty Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion with Cullen doesn't quite go as Astoreth had hoped.

### Return to the Circle - A Shitty Reunion

When we burst through a door, wary to find more abominations, demons or whatever to attack us, I nearly faint. There he is. My beloved, my templar, the father of my child. Cullen. He's not dead! A tidal wave of relief so strong it nearly knocks me off my feet washes over me. But what is that pink bubble that surrounds him? Oh no.

As I walk up to him, he snaps to. "This trick again? I know what you are. I will stay strong." His voice sounds strained. What is happening here? He kneels and clasps his hands together in prayer.

"Cullen? It's me. You remember me, don't you?" I would've expected a warmer welcome, despite all this. The others are quiet; it's almost as if they know what he means to me. I hope Alistair's not been blabbing.

"Oh, I remember all right. Enough visions! If anything in you is human, kill me now. You broke the others, but I will stay strong. For my sake, for theirs..." he rambles. "I'm so tired of these cruel jokes!" His voice trails off and nearly breaks. "Tempting me with her gentle eyes, her soft lips, her warm body..." he mumbles. I hope nobody else heard that.

I place my hand on his strange cage. It feels cool and very delicate, but I doubt I could break it. Otherwise he would've done so himself. "Cullen, it's really me!" I get into a kneeling position as well but I cannot look him in the eye as he has lowered his head.

Verses of the Chant of Light frantically tumble from his lips. " _Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing he has wrought shall be lost_ ," he rapidly recites. Fitting. If I'm not mistaken, that's from the Canticle of Trials. One of the few verses I can remember, because it gives me strength when I need it. I'm not all that religious, but sometimes it helps.

How else could I reply to that than with another verse? " _Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder._ " I press my lips to the cage, leaving a dark red imprint on its surface. Somewhere behind me I hear a girlish gasp from Leliana. Apparently it is surprising I would know some verses of the Chant.

Upon hearing my words, my darling looks up at me, staring incredulously at the red smear upon his cage. My name escapes his lips in a heavy sigh. "It's really you."

"Cullen..." Suddenly my cheeks are wet; I must be crying. Maker, I'm so happy he is still alive!

"Don't blame me for being cautious. The voices, the images... So real." He gets to his feet and stares down at me. "Why did you return to the tower? How did you survive?"

"I..." His words are cold. This is not how I remembered him. Whatever has happened? "The Grey Wardens need the Circle's assistance. And I survived through dumb luck and the help of my companions." I point in their general direction with my thumb. "Greagoir told me what was going on and I decided to help."

"Good. Kill Uldred. Kill them all for what they've done." His eyes are burning with a murderous intensity I've never seen in him before. "They caged us like animals... looked for ways to break us. I'm the only one left."

"Be proud," Sten suddenly says. "You mastered yourself." His voice shows admiration. That's the most emotion I've ever heard the man show.

"Be proud?" Cullen lashes out. "What is there to be proud of? That I lived and they died? They turned some into monsters... and there was nothing I could do." A hint of sadness has crept into the anger in his tone.

"I'm sorry," I mumble. Again there is nothing I can do. In the face of all of this despair and death, I am utterly powerless, no matter how much I'd like to help or make things better.

"And to think I once thought we were too hard on you." Cullen's fiery gaze has shifted to me. What did _I_ do? "Only mages have such power at their fingertips. Only mages are this susceptible to the infernal whisperings of demons," he bristles.

Thankfully, Wynne interjects: "This is a discussion for another time! Irving and the other mages who fought Uldred, where are they?"

"They are in the Harrowing Chamber." The templar's eyes dart anxiously toward the door leading to it. "The sounds coming out from there, oh Maker..."

I get back to my feet and slap my fist to my palm. "Uldred will pay for what he has done." Now it's even more personal.

"We must hurry. They are in grave danger, I'm sure of it," Wynne frets.

"You can't save them," Cullen turns our attention back to him. "You don't know what they've become."

"And you do?" I ask him softly. I can't stand to see him like this. And it's as if he blames me for it too. But I suppose that right now, he blames all mages. I have no possibility of knowing or understanding what he's been through.

"They've been surrounded by b-blood mages whose wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt your thoughts." He shudders furiously.

"His hatred of mages is so intense," Alistair suddenly says. It's the first time he's spoken in a while. "The memory of his friends' deaths is still fresh in his mind." No doubt that also serves as a warning for me not to push him overmuch. He needn't worry. I don't intend to.

"You have to end it now, before it's too late," Cullen speaks urgently.

"Are you asking me to kill all of my brothers and sisters in there?" I can't believe he's asking this of me. "I cannot make such a decision before I've seen the situation for myself."

"Are you really saving anyone by taking this risk?" The anger has returned to his voice. No, this certainly isn't the gentle man I used to know. Let's hope this change isn't permanent.

"Look, my mind is made up. We need to help them quickly. Stay safe."

And so I walk away without looking back to ascend the stairs to the Harrowing Chamber. This was certainly not the reunion I had hoped for.


	55. Return to the Circle - All These Ogres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grey Wardens and friends save the day.

### Return to the Circle - All These Ogres

We walk right into a very nasty sight. Some unfortunate mage is turning into an abomination, his form twisting and shifting into that hideous creature while he screams his lungs out. The other mages present watch in horror. And then it is done. He's probably already forgotten who he used to be. The bald man who was watching over the process turns to us. "Uldred," Wynne mutters angrily under her breath.

"Ah, look what we have here. I remember you; Irving's star pupil." His voice slithers into my ears like a wet, slimy snake. "Uldred didn't think much of you then and I certainly don't see your appeal now."

Speaking in third person, are we? Silly demon. "That's too bad for you then. I'm sure you will see it though, right before I kill you."

"Wait, wait, wait," the oddly human-looking abomination before me says, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Let's not be hasty. I'm trying to have a civil conversation here."

I show it a bitter smile. "Really? That is too bad, because I don't converse with abominations."

"Fight if you must." Uldred shrugs. "It will just make my victory all the sweeter."

"Don't forget the Litany," Wynne whispers to me. As it so happens, I'm holding it in my hand already and show this to her. She smiles. "Very good. It will thwart Uldred's attempts to control the mages and win this fight for us."

And then Uldred turns into something that looks like an ogre, but infinitely more dangerous with many more sharp pointy things on it. What is it with all these ogres today?

~*|'-'|*~

Another tough fight and I'd hardly recovered from our run in with sloth and his friends. But at least now Uldred is dead and the Litany prevented other mages from turning into abominations. Poor old Irving staggers to his feet. "Maker. I'm too old for this," he complains.

"Irving! Are you all right?" Wynne is at his side in no time, full of concern, letting the First Enchanter lean on her.

He chuckles dryly. "I've been better, but I'm thankful to be alive. Thank you, all of you." He nods to us amiably. "I must admit it was a surprise seeing you there, but I am glad you have returned," he addresses me. "The Circle owes you a debt we could never repay." Irving sighs and scratches his beard. "Come, the templars await. We shall let them know the tower is ours once again."

Suddenly someone taps my shoulder. I turn around to find Daniela there with tears in her eyes. Immediately I fling my arms around her and we both begin crying like little girls. "Astoreth! I'm so glad you're back!" she sobs.

"I'm so glad you're not dead!" I sob back.

"Ladies, please continue your reunion on the way down," Irving gently chides us. "I will need someone to guide me down the stairs. Curse the one whoever insisted the Circle be housed in a tower," he complains.

I roll my eyes. "Amen."

~*|'-'|*~

On the way down I saw that Cullen's cage is gone and he is too. Must've gone straight to Greagoir as soon as Uldred was dead. Daniela and I caught up on the way down. From her yellow robes I could see she was a full mage. Her Harrowing went well too and she has moved into a room with only two others. No doubt her bed has seen quite a lot of use. When we passed her room, she excused herself to try and tidy up the place. The girl's a genuine neat freak. Who thinks of tidying up in times like these? Nobody, except for Owain maybe.

"Irving?" Greagoir exclaims as soon as he sees the First Enchanter. "Maker's breath! I never expected to see you alive."

"It's done. Uldred is dead, Greagoir," the old man simply states.

Cullen, who is standing next to the Knight-Commander adds: "Uldred tortured these mages, hoping to turn them into abominations. We don't know how many have turned."

"What?" Irving stares at the templar in shock. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Of course he'll say that!" Cullen tells Greagoir. "He may be a blood mage. Don't you know what they did? I won't let this happen again!" His voice sounds determined. Determined to have every last one of the mages eradicated. I can only stare at him in utter disbelief. That which the blood mages have done to him must have been something terrible indeed, for him to change so abruptly.

"I am the Knight-Commander here, not you," Greagoir sternly says.

"And what do you think then, Knight-Commander?" I ask him. Please don't annul the Circle.

"We have won back the tower. I will accept Irving's assurance that all is well," the man decides. Thank the Maker.

"But they may have demons within them, lying dormant, lying in wait!" Cullen sputters desperately.

"Enough!" his superior scolds him. "I have already made my decision." For a few moments, Cullen stares at him in disbelief and opens his mouth to supposedly object but apparently thinks better of it and storms away instead. I should try to find him later, and speak with him. "Thank you," Greagoir turns to me. "You have proven yourself a friend of the Circle and the templars."

"No problem. But I came to ask your help against the Blight, the darkspawn."

"My duty is now to watch over the mages, but they are free to help you. Speak with Irving about it." He turns to leave. "I will now begin a sweep of the tower, to tend to any survivors there may be. And Irving, it's good to have you back."

"Ah, I am sure we'll be at each other's throats again in no time," the First Enchanter replies smugly. The Knight-Commander simply chuckles in response and walks away. "We will help you against the darkspawn," Irving tells me solemnly. "It's the least we can do is help you, after all you've done for us."

"I was glad I could help. There is another thing I would ask of you, however: could the Circle come to Redcliffe to save a possessed child?"

"The child is possessed? But killing the demon means... Unless you intend to enter the Fade." Irving rubs his chin in contemplation. "Yes... Yes, that is possible, with a group of mages. I will gather what mages I can and we will leave promptly. A life is at stake."

"Irving, I have a request," Wynne suddenly pipes up. "I seek leave to follow the Grey Warden."

"Wynne, we need you here. The Circle needs you." Irving sighs.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but the Circle will do fine without me. The Circle has you." She smiles fondly at the old man. "This woman is brave and good and capable of great things. If she accepts my help, I will help her accomplish her goals."

Oh my, such compliments. Surely I am red in the face. Replace brave with foolish and she'd be more accurate though. "It would be an honour to have you with me, Wynne," I reply in all honesty. She is a fine mage and an even better healer. Our mighty warriors have benefited greatly from her healing spells. And she seems like a very nice lady.

"You were never one to stay in the tower when there were adventures to be had elsewhere," Irving chuckles. "Then I give you leave to follow the Grey Warden, but know that you will always have a place here. If you would excuse me, I have some preparations to make." Upon that note, the First Enchanter leaves us.

"Welcome to our group, Wynne," Leliana says happily.

Alistair gently elbows me in the ribs. "Don't you have someone to talk to?" He eyes me with concern. Of course he also saw what went on between Cullen and myself.

I nod. "I suppose so. I'll see you later then."

The others are too busy talking amongst themselves (except for Sten, naturally) to notice me slipping away. I find that I'm hesitant to speak with Cullen and first head to Danny's room. She's kneeling on the floor, scrubbing it with a rag. In the short time she's been here, the room looks remarkably better. Daniela smiles when she sees me. "It's good to see you again."

"I'm glad to be back, even if it's only temporary. So, have you been up to anything lately?"

She shakes her blonde head. Her short hair has grown a bit longer since the last time I saw her. "No, not really. You know, just studying." Her blue eyes sparkle with curiosity. "So, you're one of the legendary Grey Wardens. How is it?"

I shrug. "Lots of pressure. Most of the order got wiped out at Ostagar. And I'm not that good a Grey Warden, I'm afraid. You should see Alistair in action."

"Is that the handsome young man who was with you?" Her voice has taken on a tone of interest. She's still the same girl I remember. "But you are mistaken. You handled yourself very well against Uldred."

"You think so?" All I remember is desperately flinging spells across the room and chugging down lyrium potions. Fortunately I didn't need that many, otherwise I'd be high as a kite right now.

"Of course." Danny gets off the floor. "You saved us, and I'm very grateful for that." She wraps her arms around me for a warm hug. When we let go, she says: "Well, you are a bit more voluptuous than I remember you." Her voice sounds amused.

"You can say fat, it won't hurt my feelings. I just eat a lot." For now I won't let her know about the baby. Cullen should be the first to know. Well, the first person in the tower, that is.

"I didn't mean fat, Astoreth, really. I think it makes you look more feminine." Daniela retrieves a small familiar container from her pocket. "You've probably run out of this already. Here you are." She hands me the cherry lip balm.

"Thank you. I've been using it a lot. Great stuff." I immediately open the container to rub some onto my lips. "Well, I have some other business to attend to, so I'll leave you."

"Cullen, I take it? You must be happy to see him again. He got really sad when you left. Took the bear from me without a word and ran off. Poor thing." She eyes me with pity. "Well, off you go then. I still have a lot of cleaning to do here."

I nod and kiss her cheek before leaving her to it.


	56. Return to the Circle - The Value of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could being alone with Cullen prove a better reunion than the previous one?

### Return to the Circle - The Value of Love

I'm in the templar quarters. It would seem I've found Cullen. He is standing in front of a mirror with his back turned to me, stripped down to his waist. What a sight. Love and lust overcome me, even though I know his feelings towards me must've changed.

"Is this your room?"

He quickly spins around upon hearing my voice. "It is." With a sigh he approaches me. "We need to talk."

My spirits are immediately dampened. "That doesn't sound good." The words exit my throat as a tiny squeak. To think that just the night before I dreamed of him, of the way he used to be, so sweet and adorable.

"Do you remember when you told me that if I ever thought we should end this, I should tell you?" His voice sounds so cold, like I don't matter to him at all. "Well, this is where I tell you that we should end it." Nothing but cool determination. I don't think anything I would say could change his mind. Of course I could beg and plead him to please not leave me, or tell him about our child to have him stay with me out of pity. But I prefer to preserve my dignity, or what is left of it anyway. It's so difficult to maintain my composure when all I want to do is break down and cry.

"Is it because I didn't have all of the others annulled?" At least I deserve some kind of explanation. I think.

He sighs. "No, that's not it. I just don't trust you anymore," Cullen says harshly. "All I see is a potential blood mage, a vessel waiting to be filled by a demon; not the girl I fell in love with. I'm sorry." Bullshit. I can tell he's not sorry at all. But I am. He is definitely not the same person he used to be.

"I see your mind is made up." Somehow I manage to keep the quiver out of my voice, caused by the tears stinging my eyes just below the surface. "Then it would be unfair of this mage to bother you any longer. Goodbye."

I dip into a bow and blink when my head is down. Two lone tears fall to the floor and then I straighten by back and turn. I race away, down the stairs. Far behind me I can hear his voice, calling my name, telling me to wait. I will not wait. I will not let him see my tears.

~*|'-'|*~

The others are already waiting for me near the exit. I managed to dry my tears and stop crying on the way down, but I'm afraid my eyes are still red and puffy. Of course concerned questions are rapidly aimed at me, but I simply brush them off. Since there are now five of us, the ferryman will have to make two trips. I elect to go with Sten, for the obvious reason that he doesn't talk much and won't bother me. Let the other three go together and speculate on what is ailing me.

~*|'-'|*~

It was already dark by the time we got to the docks. No travelling back to Redcliffe for us just yet. Morrigan seemed relieved we had returned and so did Stubbs, bouncing around me happily at first. But then he picked up on how I was feeling and whined pitifully, as if begging me to tell me what was the matter with me. I'm not ready to talk about it just yet. Now I am sitting in my own room in the Spoiled Princess, as the inn near the docks is called. I like the name. Wynne, Leliana and Morrigan are sharing a room, as are Sten, Alistair and Stubbs. They insisted I stay in a room of my own after watching my gloomy demeanour and curt responses.

It's already very late, but I'm just not sleepy. And I know I'm hungry because my stomach is growling like an angry mabari, but I just don't feel like eating. My poor child will grow up without a father. I feel sorely tempted to have Morrigan brew that baby-killing potion, but that would be terrible of me. And besides, this little one is as much mine as it is Cullen's. Hmm, I just realized I'm still wearing his ring. Should've given it back to him when I had the chance. Every time it catches my eye my heart shrinks, so I take it off and stuff it down my pouch.

Suddenly someone knocks on the door and without waiting for an answer, Alistair just lets himself in.

"Hey, I could've been naked here," I protest weakly. Of course I'm not; I did take a bath to scrub off the blood and gore that was on me and changed into my often repaired black robes. I feel more comfortable with more covering.

My visitor grins. "I was hoping for that, actually." Then he begins blushing and clears his throat. "Anyhow, I couldn't sleep. Too worried, I suppose. What's happened to you?" Again with the questions. I don't want to talk about it. I shake my head. Alistair sits next to me on the bed. "Come on, tell me." He grabs my hand and lightly squeezes it. "You look so sad."

"Fine, if you really want to know. Cullen and I are through. It's over." I find it difficult to put any kind of emotion into my voice. I feel numb, cold; as if I've been dunked in a vat of ice cold water.

"What? Why?" Utter disbelief appears on my companion's face. "Have you told him about the baby?"

"You saw what they did to him. He..." I swallow. "He doesn't trust me anymore. And why should I tell him? So he would stay with me out of pity?"

Alistair bites his lip. "Point taken. But don't you think he deserves to at least know?"

"No. He was often plagued by guilt because he had broken his vows because of me. How do you think the baby would make him feel then?"

"I see." Alistair nods gravely. "I think love is worth more than any vow though."

"How cute. Why don't you go tell him that?"

"You know what?" He lets go of my hand and stands up from the bed. "I think I will!" And so he marches out of my room, a man on a mission. I shake my head. Silly Alistair. What could he possibly hope to accomplish? They don't even know each other. Hopefully he will realize it's stupid and just get into bed.


	57. Return to the Circle - A Rolled Up Carpet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair returns, bearing a special gift.

### Return to the Circle - A Rolled Up Carpet

After an hour or so, Alistair returns to my room. A rolled up carpet is slung over his shoulder. What in the...?

"What in the Maker's name did you bring with you?"

"Well, this is the carpet from your old room!" he beams. "I thought I'd bring you a memento. Do you like it?"

"I appreciate the idea, Alistair, but what am I going to do with a carpet? It's not very practical to bring along with us, you know." Where does that silly boy get such ideas?

"Did you fall for that?" He chuckles. "It's not so much about the carpet, as it is about what is in it." Giggling like a loon he slowly unfolds it. Goodness gracious, my eyes must be deceiving me. Cullen, apparently unconscious, is lying on the bloody, stained carpet. He's dressed for the night in a pair of loose trousers and a ridiculously long shirt.

"Are you mad?" I sharply slap his shoulder. "You could get into serious trouble for this!"

"Hey, hey, don't hit me! I bruise easily." His happy face turns a little sadder. "I brought him because I thought you two should work out your differences. Hit him on the noggin while he was sleeping."

"Great, and what now? You could've easily killed him with your strength." I roll my eyes. "Did you catch a case of the stupid? Ah, it's probably my fault. You've been around me for far too long, haven't you?" I pat his shoulder. He can't help it either; he was only trying to help. "Well, I appreciate what you're trying to do for me, but please just bring him back. There is nothing for us to talk about."

The unconscious templar on the floor groans and slowly opens his eyes. He jumps up and gets into an attack position as soon as he sees me. "You!" he yells. "Did you order your minion to capture me?" Rage is burning in his eyes.

"Minion?" Alistair bursts out laughing.

"Believe me, I had nothing to do with it." I raise my hands. "It was all _his_ dumb idea!"

"So it was!" my fellow Grey Warden says happily. "I should leave you two alone to talk things through."

"Are you crazy? Look at him!" I point at Cullen, who still looks ready to go for my throat. "He is going to kill me!"

The templar blinks and slowly lowers his hands. "No, I could never kill you." His cold voice has a sound of dejection to it, the rage in his eyes gone.

I fold my arms before my chest and glare at him. "You sound almost sorry about that."

"I think I'll stick around for this," Alistair says warily and positions himself in the corner.

"So..." I pat the bed beside me. "Sit. Now that you're here, we might as well speak."

Cullen obediently does as I say, but sits a fair distance away from me, frowning all the while. "What is there to speak of?"

"Would you like to talk about what happened to you in the tower?" I turn towards him and pull my knees up to my chest. No need to show off my baby bulge.

He flinches and begins trembling, causing the entire bed to shake. "N-no, I... would rather not."

I nod. "That is up to you, of course. But talking about it might help you cope with it better. Just saying."

"Fine, if it will get you off my back," Cullen grumbles angrily. "First..."

"No, no." I raise my hand to silence him. "If you don't want to be reminded of it, just keep quiet and go back home."

"Too late. I don't even know how it started; suddenly they were everywhere. Demons, blood mages, abominations..." His voice sounds as if he's in a trance, his eyes staring into empty space. "I had taken a few of them down, but then they managed to trap me in that cage. They made me watch my friends die, or turn into monsters. There was nothing I could do. And then the illusions began." His gaze shifts to me, filled with sadness and a hint of longing. "They tempted me with images of you..." His voice breaks and tears begin streaming down his face. I reflexively open my arms and he almost flies into my embrace, violent sobs racking his body.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all that, my darling." Oops, that last bit just escaped me thoughtlessly. But he doesn't seem to mind. His tears soak the shoulder of my robe and he nearly chokes the life out of me, his arms wrapped around my waist so tightly. "Cullen!" I manage to choke out. His grip lessens immediately.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, raising his head. "They kept showing me images of you, lying underneath me unclad, whispering the dirtiest, most sinful phrases and _I still liked it._ " He sounds disgusted with himself. "I remember _you_ always said the sweetest things, but what she said was... entirely different." A warm blush creeps up his cheeks and in the corner I hear the shuffling of awkward feet. I'd almost forgotten about Alistair.

He looks as red as the rose he gave me. I catch his eye and gesture for him to leave. With a grateful expression on his face he takes off, quietly closing the door behind him.

I can't help but feel curious. "What did she say to you then?" I run my fingers through his hair. It's as soft as I remember it.

"Uhm, I..." He shakes his head in embarrassment. "I shouldn't repeat that to you. It would be too inappropriate."

Softly I caress his cheek. "As you wish." And before I forget... "I need to return something to you." I blindly dig around in my pouch until my fingers close around something small and delicate.

Cullen blankly stares at the ring in the palm of my hand for a few moments. "Please, keep it," he eventually says hesitantly.

I can't help but smile sadly. "If it's all the same to you, I would like to try and forget." I am unable to keep my grief out of my voice.

"I-I see," he says softly. Instead of an angry man, a forlorn boy sits before me. He gingerly takes the ring from me and slides it around his little finger. His beautiful brown eyes have this sad, gentle look to them once more, but I am afraid this is only temporary. My beloved has changed and is in fact my beloved no longer.

He begins fumbling at the back of his neck with both hands. My necklace. I gently take his hands away. "Keep it. I have no more use for it. My past is behind me; now I must look ahead to the future, to my duty."

"Your duty?" He quizzically raises an eyebrow.

"I'm a Grey Warden now and a Blight is threatening this land. Sadly, it's up to Alistair and myself to stop it." I sigh. "Ferelden is doomed."

Cullen's eyes narrow when he smiles at me. "No, I am confident you will save us. I'm proud that you've come so far." He fondly strokes my cheek with affection shining in his eyes.

"Yes. Who would've thought the harlot that made this steadfast templar break his vows would become a Grey Warden?" I chuckle bitterly.

"To me, you will always be a lady. My lady." Before I fully know what's going on, Cullen has cupped my face in his hands and firmly presses his lips to mine. In this last kiss I can feel the love he once held in his heart for me, all of the affection, the tenderness, the warmth. Sadly it is over all too soon. When he lets go of me, he sighs sadly and takes my hands in his. "You will always be in my heart. Those things I said earlier... That was very mean of me and I didn't really mean it. What we had was a beautiful thing, but it also goes against everything I should stand for. So, this is goodbye."

"You're right. For what it's worth, I'm sorry you broke your vows because of me. And of course you will always have a special place in my heart." This is really it then. The end of us.

"No, there is no need for you to be sorry about anything. I was with you because I wanted to and because what I felt... feel for you is stronger than any vow." He looks me square in the eye, his voice filled with determination. "But now we should both look to our duties. I have a Circle to watch over and you have a country to save."

He gets up from the bed and after gentlemanly pressing his lips to my hand, he walks to the door.

"Cullen?"

The templar turns, his hand on the doorknob. "Yes?"

"Maker watch over you."

He nods gravely. "May he watch over us all, Warden." And with that he walks out of my life. Goodbye, my love. I will never forget you.


	58. Return to the Circle - Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's over with Cullen. Now what?

### Return to the Circle - Empty

So this is it; Cullen and I are through. I should be a little pile of misery, crying my eyes out, but the tears just won't come. Instead of feeling sad, I simply feel... empty.

All of a sudden Alistair bursts through the door. He kneels before me and grabs my hands. "I'm so sorry." His voice sounds as sad as I should be feeling.

"It's fine. He was right; our relationship was doomed from the start. I was merely fooling myself into thinking that it would be possible for us to be together." I feel so numb. Is that even feeling? I don't know.

"But... he loves you. It's so obvious. And you love him as well. Whatever is wrong with that?" His words are so urgent. I wonder why. He must be some kind of hopeless romantic.

"I'll tell you what is wrong with that. He is a templar, and I a mage. His kind is supposed to be watching over my kind, not procreating with them. I've been a right fool for believing we had a future, for making him break his vows." But the regret I feel for this last part is minimal. It was good while it lasted and Cullen's a big boy; he could've said no to me. We mages are said to be promiscuous and I suppose I simply live up to that notion.

"No, don't say that!" Alistair squeezes my hands. "What happened to what you told me, about love not discriminating based on your station in life and stuff?" He sounds almost desperate.

"Yes, well, love is stupid like that. And I was stupid to believe that was a good thing." I sigh and pull my hands out of Alistair's to rub my eyes. "Look, don't worry about me. This won't impair my judgment and I will continue the righteous Grey Wardening just like before. You have my word on this."

"That's not what I'm worried about!" the other Warden suddenly bursts out. "I'm sorry. It's just... I can't stand to see you like this." He reaches up and strokes my cheek with his rough hand. "Where's that sparkle in your eyes? It's just... extinguished."

I shrug. "I can't really help it, my friend. It's very sweet how you worry for me, but I will mend eventually." My voice is dull; it almost feels as if another is speaking. Oh, that's right... I keep on forgetting to give Alistair that amulet. Truth be told I've put off presenting it for so long because I'm not even sure it's really what I think it is. "In any case, I have something for you." I dive into my pouch and give him the velvet-wrapped package.

Alistair looks at me curiously and slowly unwraps his gift. He gasps as soon as the amulet comes into view. "This is my mother's amulet! How..." With his mouth open he stares at me. "Where did you find it?"

"Redcliffe Castle. I stole it from what I think is the arl's desk."

"Why isn't it broken? The arl must've found it after it shattered and repaired it. But why would he...?" He stares at the silver keepsake in awe, seems to trace every miniscule crack with his eyes.

"Because he cares about you more than you think." How could he not? I never knew Alistair as a child, but I'm sure he must've been as pleasant as he is now.

He smiles fondly. "I guess so. I should talk to the arl about this when he wakes up... if he wakes up." His silken brown eyes shift back to me. "So you remembered everything I told you? Huh. I thought most people just stopped listening whenever I went on."

"I can only speak for myself, but of course I remembered. Don't mind how my face looks, but you mean a lot to me." I can't even manage to punctuate that with a sweet smile, but the words are genuine, monotonous as they may sound.

Alistair laughs happily. "Is this the part where the minstrels appear and we all begin dancing? Because I'm game!"

"No, I think the minstrels have all retired for the night, but please go ahead and dance if you like." I remember the 'dance' he did in Lothering. It was cute and funny.

Alistair slips the amulet over his head, words of gratitude falling from his mouth in a whisper. Sighing sadly he places his hands on my knees and stares into my face. "Oh, you poor girl. Is there nothing I can do for you?"

"I don't know. Do you have a cure against stupidity?"

He shakes his head. "Unfortunately, no. I would've used it myself if that was the case."

"Don't be silly, you're not stu-..." Suddenly the little one in me begins violently thrashing around, sending painful spasms through my belly. I cry out and roll into a little ball, panting and groaning. This hurts so badly.

"What's happening, what's happening?" I can hear Alistair's panicking. Thankfully the pain slowly abates. I sit back up.

"That was the baby. At least it's lively." It almost felt as if it was having a nightmare. "I've been wondering... Do you think the baby might be tainted too? After all, it was already growing in me during the Joining."

Alistair nods slowly. "That is a possibility. You won't be able to sense it until it's born. But you're lucky to have a child. The Grey Wardens I knew had children before they Joined, but it's difficult to conceive with the taint within us."

"Hmm. Well, I hope it's not tainted. Otherwise it would have to live with all these nightmares from such a young age, and of course it won't understand at first. Poor little one." I cradle my belly in my hands.

"Uhm, that's not the only thing it will have to live with." Alistair's voice sounds grave and his face is slowly becoming redder. "I should've told you a long time ago, but..."

"Oh no. What is it?" This Grey Warden business comes with a whole package of pleasant gifts, it would seem.

"Once you reach a certain age, the real nightmares come. That's how a Grey Warden knows his time has come." He clears his throat. "You see, you've got thirty years to live, give or take."

Thirty years. Thirty years left to live. Possibly for my baby too. Thirty years. Why don't I feel more worried? I just don't feel as if I have all that much to live for (sorry, little one). Thirty years is more than enough to defeat the archdemon, I'm sure. After that... Well, we shall see what comes after that. "Thirty years, huh?" I shrug. "I'll make them matter." Time to be more focused on my duty as a Warden, as a mother.

"I was thinking," Alistair says shyly, his cheeks dyed a deep shade of red. "Maybe I could stay here and... hold you? If that would comfort you, I mean."

"Heh, it might." I manage to crank out a smile. "That's very sweet of you."

My friend gets onto the bed and takes me in his arms. This does make me feel more secure; it chases away the numbness. Well, a little anyway. He lets out a long yawn. "Sorry, I'm a little sleepy."

"Of course you are. It's really late." I pat him on the shoulder. "Go to sleep. I'll be fine as long as you're here."

"Really?" His voice is small and sleepy. That one's going to fall asleep in 3... 2... 1... And yes, the snoring has commenced. I snuggle up to him a little closer. He's so nice and warm, his heartbeat drumming against my ear in a steady rhythm. Even so I don't think sleep will come for me this night. I close my eyes, but I don't feel sleepy at all. Boy, this is going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends the return to the Circle with all the abominations and the dying and stuff.


	59. Return to Redcliffe - Adventures in Templar-Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan and Leliana try to comfort Astoreth.

### Return to Redcliffe - Adventures in Templar-Land

"Alistair told us about what happened to you," Leliana says to me in a concerned voice as I'm warming myself by the campfire.

Morrigan holds out her hands to me. "For you, to sweeten the pain." Her palms appear to be covered in honey.

"Uh, do you expect me to just lick it off?" I stare at the witch in disbelief. It's always strange when she does something nice for somebody, rare though this is. It just doesn't seem her thing.

"Why not?" She sits next to me. "I washed my hands before I collected the honey."

Leliana sits herself on my other side. "So, your lover broke up with you? That was all Alistair would say, though." The pretty redhead lays an arm around my shoulders. "Would you perhaps like to talk about it?"

"Do not let this go to waste," Morrigan chides me and without further ado slips a sticky finger into my mouth. It's an oddly sensual gesture, but I think she simply doesn't know this kind of behaviour is socially unacceptable. The taste of the honey is deliciously sweet, however. I haven't eaten much these past few days. I've been quite languid since... the thing. Sleep doesn't come to me at all and I haven't had the balls to look in a mirror. I must look like something that just clawed its way out of a grave. "Speak to us of your troubles, if you wish." Morrigan's voice is surprisingly gentle as she continues feeding me the sweet, sticky liquid. Realizing I can't speak well with her fingers in my mouth, she pauses and eyes me expectantly.

I sigh. Fine, I will tell them all about my adventures in templar-land. They sound surprised as I speak of my former beloved, of how we got together, but politely keep any comments to themselves. I continue talking for quite some time, never too detailed, but still telling them everything. Leliana and Morrigan laugh as I tell them how Alistair kidnapped Cullen and brought him to the Spoiled Princess, but their laughing dies down when I reach the conclusion. Cullen and I are no longer together, and he doesn't even know of our child.

"So, a templar, hm?" Morrigan chuckles. "I do not know whether to applaud you or to slap you upside the head for your stupidity."

"Morrigan!" Leliana scolds her. "That is not a very nice thing to say. I am so sorry, Astoreth. If there is anything you need, please say so." Her lovely blue eyes are filled with compassion.

Morrigan feeds me some more honey. "Indeed. Maybe now you will realize that love is fleeting, meaningless." She has changed during our time together; her yellow eyes used to have a perpetual disdainful look to them, but now she regards me with kindness and pity. It might have something to do with the book of spells I gave her, the Black Grimoire. Apparently it was her mother's and she was searching for it, so she accepted it gratefully. I do think she's wrong about love; well, it may be fleeting, but it's not meaningless. It was all that kept me going. Before the thing, anyway.

"Thank you both, ladies. It was good to talk about it, but I'm afraid there just isn't anything anyone can do to help me. But they say time will heal all wounds, so all we have to do is wait." I shoot them both a look of gratitude.

"I have found that it helps to change one's appearance when a new stage in life begins," Leliana says sagely.

"My appearance? What, are you suggesting I cut my hair, or something?"

"Oh, you should certainly not cut it," Morrigan gasps. "'Twould be a shame, that." I smile at her in thanks.

Leliana shakes her head. "No, no, nothing quite so drastic." Her nimble fingers remove the pins from my bun and uncoil my hair. "Simply a new style. In Orlais I learned how to do this intricate braid that would look stunning on you." She divides my hair into five strands and braids them, her fingers moving so swiftly I can hardly see what they are doing. The braid hangs down my right shoulder, reaching to just below my right breast. It certainly looks intricate, all coiled and twisted in different directions.

"Would you like to see what you look like?" Leliana asks as she ties a red ribbon around the end in a pretty bow.

"Uhm, I would rather not. I haven't slept in days."

"You do look terrible," Morrigan says bluntly. "And you have hardly eaten the past few days too. Do you even realize that this is bad for the child?"

I sigh. "I know, I know. I just... don't feel like eating. Is there any stew left?"

"There is, but you should know that Alistair is the one who made it," Morrigan warns me. Alistair is infamous for his cooking skills, or rather, the lack thereof. Eating his stew is like eating boiled dirt. He's a great guy, but cooking isn't his forte. Still, it is nourishment.

"Duly noted." The stew is cooling down in the large cauldron we always drag along with us. I dunk my spoon into the cauldron, eating directly from it. Only after the first bite do I notice how famished I really am. I would have to be to enjoy this greyish goo so much. I eat and I eat and I eat until the whole damned thing is empty. Afterwards I let out a long, unladylike belch and rub my belly. I'm so sorry I didn't feed you properly, little one. "Thank you for doing my hair, Leliana. Maybe you could teach me how to, so I can do it myself?"

She smiles sweetly. "Of course. It would be my pleasure."

"You have some stew on your face," Morrigan points out dryly.

I stick out my tongue. "Oh yeah? Well, you have honey on your hands."

"It would appear that I do." She begins licking her hands, much like a cat would.

"You do realize I had your fingers in my mouth a few moments before, right?"

She shrugs. "Yes. I am sure you do not have the dreaded cooties, so I do not mind." After a careful inspection of her hands she says: "There, all clean. Now, I will continue studying mother's grimoire. Goodnight to you." She walks away and flings a mean glare at Alistair who comes up to the fire, bowl and spoon in hand.

"Is there any stew left?" he asks hopefully.

"Uhm, no. Sorry. I ate it all." I hang my head in shame. Should've known he would come back for more.

Alistair drops the things in his hands and bends down to pick me up. "You ate!" He happily swings me around as if I weigh nothing. "I was getting worried for you, little Warden. Don't scare me like that anymore, all right?"

"I won't, I'm sorry." All this swaying around is nauseating. "Please put me down."

He carefully does so. "Nice hairdo. Hey, you have some stew on your face." And then he licks it off.

"Ew!" I wipe my cheek with my sleeve. "How rude."

Leliana giggles. "You two are so cute."

"She may be cute," Alistair huffs. "But I'm _adorable_!"

"And so modest too. But yes, you are adorable!" I pinch his cheeks, which redden immediately.

"I have things to do elsewhere," he mumbles awkwardly and scurries off. That's strange. We often treat each other like this and it never makes him awkward. How odd.


	60. Return to Redcliffe - Purple-Headed Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth catches Alistair doing something that good little Chantry boys really shouldn't.

### Return to Redcliffe - Purple-Headed Warrior

"Oh, look at that. You've embarrassed him," Leliana chuckles. "Such a nice boy he is."

"Yes, he is." I really like Alistair. Ever since the beginning he's been nice to me, usually treating me like a little sister, sometimes light-heartedly flirting with me. After which he always begins fidgeting awkwardly, I might add. He's very endearing, but Maker, that body could drive the coldest woman crazy. It does me sometimes. Hey, what do you know, I feel something. Lust. Haven't felt that in a while. No more thinking about sexy Wardens for you, little lady. "Say, Leliana?" I turn to face my lovely companion.

She looks at me curiously. "Yes? What is it?"

"I don't mean to pry, but what was it you did before you entered the Chantry? I have a hard time believing a minstrel learns to fight like that on the road." She stares at me awkwardly, biting her lip and making no reply. "It's fine if you don't want to say anything. I was merely curious."

Leliana sighs in relief and looks at me gratefully. "Thank you. I will tell you in time, but not just yet."

"As you wish. I'll go see what Alistair is doing then." So I leave her alone by the fire and walk in the direction of my fellow Warden's tent. That Leliana is a mysterious young woman. What was she in a former life, some kind of assassin? Oh well. I don't even know why I'm going to see Alistair. To thank him for the way he's always treated me, I suppose. He's been a good friend. No, the best. I quietly move aside the entrance to his tent not to wake him in case he's asleep. But he isn't. From the telltale pumping motions of his hand and his quickened breathing I can tell he is busy pleasuring himself. It's apparently very effective, as he doesn't notice even notice my presence. Oh, dear. I feel compelled to stay and secretly watch, but that would be so very naughty of me. Should I wait until he's done? No, I'd better not; I might just lost control and burst in to have my way with him. So I close the tent flap as quietly as I opened it and clear my throat. "Alistair?"

Inside I hear a startled "Maker!" and shuffling noises. "Yes?" His voice sounds hurried and out of breath.

"I would like to talk to you. Will you join me by the fire?"

After a few moments of quiet, he says: "You go on ahead. Give me a minute."

"All right." Does that mean he is going to finish the job? That is... so hot. I know what I will be doing tonight. Not sleeping; it's been three days and I feel exhausted, but I just can't seem to fall asleep. Back at the fire I stare into the flames. Leliana's already retired for the night. Sten is around here somewhere, patrolling the camp. Lately Morrigan has taken a shine to him, always bothering our not-so-friendly giant with suggestive, flirty comments. I don't really get it. I know he's big and strong and that this invites speculation about his size below the belt, but if he were to give me those dark looks he does Morrigan, I'd crawl under a rock and hide. Our witch, not so much. Undauntedly she carries on.

How would Cullen be doing? I hope he will recover from the torture he went through. But otherwise, I should try to forget him; he is no longer my business. Still, thinking of his wonderful body, his handsome face, the sound of his voice, brings back bittersweet memories. I suppose I'm lucky to have been with him, even with the way it ended. Meanwhile, I'm slowly beginning to get over it. I think. Maybe I'm merely distracted. It's much easier when you're focused on your duty. We have a little boy to save, an arl to cure, elves and dwarves to ask for their help against the Blight, a traitorous teyrn to bring to justice. It feels good to know that the Circle is ready to aid us, thinned out as it may be. We're beginning to make some progress.

"I'm sorry it took so long," Alistair suddenly says. I didn't even notice him coming over here. His cheeks are red and he looks as if he's very hot. "I was just, uhm..."

"Attacking the one-eyed, purple-headed warrior," I finish his sentence. I've always wanted to use that dirty metaphor. Picked it up in a book somewhere.

For several minutes, Alistair stares at me with his mouth open. "Congratulations," he finally says. "You just managed to make it sound even dirtier than it already is."

"It's not dirty at all, it's..." Sexy. "Healthy. Everyone needs a release once in a while."

His blush deepens as he looks at me curiously. "Do you need... Wait, were you _watching_ me?" A look of horror twists his handsome features.

"No, these activities are always accompanied by a very distinct set of sounds." _Fap, fap, fap…_ Now it's my turn to blush, and not only because I'm lying through my teeth. This brings back memories of Cullen with his hand down his trousers. It cuts me like a knife, but also brings other feelings bubbling strongly to the surface.

"Oh." The look of horror has disappeared, only to be replaced with one of vague pity. He clears his throat and sits next to me. "Anyhow, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Well, I..." How does one say this? "I wanted to thank you for being such a good friend. Not once have you judged me and you've always provided me with a listening ear. You've always tried to comfort me in these troubled times. Thank you."

"Awww." He smiles brightly. "You can always count on me." His arms wrap around me and he pulls me against his chest. I can feel that he really likes me, for which I am very glad.

"I just don't know how I could ever repay you. So if you ever think of anything, don't hesitate to tell me," I mumble into his chest.

His laughter rumbles against my ear. "You don't have to repay me. Just after Ostagar, you did the same for me. And you got me back my mother's amulet." He lets go of me and cups my face in his hands, his lips so very close to mine. "I just wish I could make you happy again." Oh, I could think of something that would at least make my girl parts all happy... No, bad!

"I will be happy again in time. Just let it wear off, I guess." It's so difficult to restrain myself from leaning closer and sticking my tongue into his mouth.

"If you say so." Alistair gives me a brotherly kiss on the forehead and gets up. "I'm going to sleep. Care to join?"

"Do you mean for actual sleeping, or...?" That escaped me without a second thought. I could just about kick myself. "I could stay in your tent with you, but I don't think I can sleep." Brilliant save!

"It will be warmer for the both of us. Come." He holds out his hand to me and I accept it. Why not? At least he will keep his hands to himself, unlike a certain thief I used to know. "We will be back in Redcliffe tomorrow," he says as he settles down on his bedroll and pulls my back close to his chest. "Let's hope that whatever possesses Connor also keeps the arl in his unconscious state."

"Yes. But if not, then what?" No doubt this will be followed by another dangerous mission to the far ends of Ferelden.

"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it. Goodnight." He yawns and in mere moments, I can hear him softly snoring. I'm quite jealous of his ability to fall asleep so quickly. Some sleep would do me good, but it just won't come. Speaking of coming... Maybe if I brought myself to release; I get a bit sleepy after an orgasm and thinking of what Alistair was doing with his hand earlier, well, I just cannot resist.

An elbow poke into his abdomen ensures that my bed buddy is fast asleep, so I hike up my robes and slip my hand into my panties. My fingers are immediately slick with my juices. I slowly slip two of them into myself, relishing the feeling. I haven't done this in a very long time. Merely the feeling of my two fingers makes me want to cry out; imagine if an actual cock was stretching me? That would be just what I need. Moving my fingers in and out, I circle my button with my thumb and feel it pulsating under my touch. I wish I'd stayed and watched as Alistair played with himself, to hear him moan under his breath. The thought of that is enough to make me come; I can't help but spasm a bit as those wonderful waves of climax travel through my body.

Hmm. My mind is slightly cloudy, but am I sleepy? No, not at all. Instead thoughts of a certain naked Warden tumble through my head. What would his cock look like? Would it be as impressive as the rest of him? How would he react if I touched him there, curled my tongue around it? Maker willing I will one day find out. But here he is, sleeping behind me innocently. I could just reach out and touch him if I wanted to. And boy, do I want to! I don't really see why I should resist such an urge; it's not like I have someone waiting for me. Not anymore.

I slowly turn around and look at my sleeping friend's face. He looks so sweet and silly with his mouth hanging open, a trail of drool leading from it. And here I was planning to feel him up. I'm a bad, bad girl. I should at least ask him for his permission before I stick my hand down his trousers. Oh dear, I can almost envision how that would go.

_"Say, Alistair?"_

_"Yeees?"_

_"May I touch your one-eyed, purple-headed warrior?"_

_Stunned silence. "WHAT?" His eyes roll back into his head and he faints._

No, I doubt that would go over well. This is going to be another long night. But at least I've something nice to look at.


	61. Return to Redcliffe - Hook, Line and Sinker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They" attacked the wagon, but who are "they" exactly?

### Return to Redcliffe - Hook, Line and Sinker

As we are travelling through an abandoned back road, a young woman runs up to us. "Oh, thank the Maker!" she cries out. "We need help! They attacked the wagon; please help us!" She turns and runs ahead. "Follow me, I'll take you!"

Oh dear, whatever could have happened? Crazy bandits will make the best of any situation, even with the darkspawn roaming the land. I break into a trot to follow her, the quickening footsteps of the others telling me they are doing the same. The woman leads us to two overturned carts, the animals that were pulling them dead, and to a short, tan-looking fellow who seems to be smirking. Who smirks when they have been attacked? This doesn't look good.

Upon a hand gesture from the man, several more people appear and train their arrows on us. He (clearly their leader) pulls out two blades. "The Grey Wardens die here!" he yells. Assassins? Oh, that is just marvellous. It's not like we had anything else to worry about, right?

~*|'-'|*~

As I'm busily flinging spells at an archer who's managed to put an arrow into my arm, I feel a stinging pain in my side. I turn, only to be greeted by a dagger slashing me across the face. The nerve...! "Mother... _fucker_!" Is that me roaring like that? Hmm, probably. Pure, white-hot anger begins searing in my veins and everything turns red before my eyes. Ugh... Whoa, what happened? Apparently I blacked out and now I'm covered in blood. The others are staring at me in shock. I look at the object I'm holding in my hand. It appears to be a rather beautiful dagger, albeit a bloody one. At my feet is a mutilated corpse. "What happened?" Ow, my face. I look around to see that all of our attackers are incapacitated. It doesn't get more incapacitated than dead, right?

"You killed him," Alistair replies dryly. "Wrested that dagger from his hands and went all stabby on him."

My mabari barks and proudly lashes his stubby tail as if to affirm this.

"Yeah, right. Really, what happened? I seem to have blacked out."

"He is speaking the truth," Sten says gravely.

Morrigan nods. "Indeed. You simply gripped the blade and tore it from his hands." Somehow she seems pleased. "The first thing you did was repay him for the wound on your face."

"Oh, come on, you have to be kidding. Do I seem like the kind of person who would do that?" Only, I do happen to have deep, deep cuts on my fingers. Ouch. How can this be?

"Rage can fuel one's strength and heighten one's resistance to pain," the Qunari answers my unspoken question. "It would seem that this has been the case here."

I still can't believe it. "Did anyone actually see me do this?"

Everybody present raises their hands. "It's the truth," Wynne says.

Leliana shudders. "I had no idea you had such a violent streak."

"I don't. This guy," I kick at the corpse at my feet, "cut my face and I just lost it, I guess."

"Oh, I can heal that for you," Wynne says and immediately begins casting.

"No, never mind." I lay my hand on her arm and she stops. "Let it serve me as a reminder that I'm a big, fat, gullible fool who readily walks into ambushes." I scowl fiercely, which rather hurts. " _They_ attacked the wagon... I should've first asked who they were."

"Hey now, don't be too hard on yourself." Alistair walks up to me and lays an arm around my shoulders. "I fell for it too." He scratches his head. "Although that doesn't mean much, does it?"

"It certainly does not," Morrigan says smugly. This time Alistair makes no effort to start bickering with her.

In the meantime Wynne has brought out some cloth and a disinfectant and is gently cleaning the cut on my face with it. "This should be cleaned before it gets infected, dear. And you might need some stitches." She dotes on me as if I'm a child, hissing in worry from time to time. Her ministrations sting a little, but it's nothing I can't handle. I kind of fear the extraction of the arrow in my arm though.

Having cleaned the blood away, the dagger I hold is absolutely gorgeous with its curved, sharp edges and ornate hilt. I figure it's mine now, so I wrap it in some cloth and stuff it down my pouch.

"At any rate, we left their leader alive. Care to question him, or would you prefer to mutilate him as well?" Alistair chuckles.

"That's not funny!" I cannot believe this. Usually I use magic to slay my enemies. And now I'm supposed to have pulled a dagger from someone's hands and killed them with it? It is a bit hard to digest. I'm almost sorry I don't remember it.

"Don't dwell on it for too long," Alistair speaks upon seeing my pensive expression. "He had it coming anyhow."

I shrug. "I guess _SO_!" A sharp, painful yank turns my last word into a loud scream. Again it's Sten who's pulled out my arrow. "Thank you," I tell him.

"You're welcome." He nods.

This time I'm not going to pass out. "So, who wants to tie up our unfortunate assassin?"

Leliana pulls a length of rope out of her pocket upon hearing my question. "I am on it," she chuckles and walks over to the man who is lying unconscious in the middle of the road. In mere moments he is tied up like a large cut of rolled meat and yanked into a sitting position by Leliana. Only then do I notice his pointy ears. It's an elf, and a pretty one at that. Maybe a thought like this might be considered racist, but well, aren't all elves pretty? The ones I've seen back home were definitely all easy on the old eyes.

I slap him in the face. "Wake up, you!"

His eyes slowly open and at first only incomprehensible mumblings come out of him. Finally he says: "I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not at all. But I see you haven't killed me yet." That accent. I've never heard it before.

"Not _yet_ , no." I stare down on him. "Who sent you to kill us?"

"Oh, I am to be interrogated?" Despite his predicament he chuckles cheerfully. "Let me save you some time. My name is Zevran of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens. A rather taciturn fellow in the capital hired me. Loghain, I think his name was."

Alistair and I look at each other and roll our eyes. It figures Loghain would try to have us killed. I've heard about the Crows, or rather, read about them. The library in the tower was full of books that weren't about magic and one of them mentioned this order of assassins. Apparently they are quite expensive and never fail an assignment. That book needs a revision, if you ask me.

"I see." Again I begin feeling angry. How dare that traitorous piece of scum pull this kind of sneaky trick after having almost all Wardens and most of the king's army slaughtered? He is so going down. I poke my staff under the elf's chin and lift his face up. "Look here, buddy, I don't care if you're an Antivan Crow, an Orlesian Parrot or a Fereldan Parakeet. Let's keep this short and sweet: you tried to kill us, so how will you stop us from killing you?"

Zevran blinks in surprise; maybe he expected more questions. "Well, here's the thing: I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. But I like living and you are obviously the sort to give the Crows pause, so let me serve you instead."

"Serve us?" I can't help but laugh. "How could you possibly hope to be of use to us after this?"

The elf's face takes on an insulted expression. "I happen to be skilled at many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks."

"That's nice, but we already have someone like that," I say with a smile directed at Leliana. She immediately perks up, looking very proud of herself.

Zevran shrugs as well as he can with the way our minstrel tied him up. "Well, I could also stand around and look pretty, if you prefer. Warm your bed? Fend off unwanted suitors? No?" His voice sounds as if he's already thinking of what he would have to do to warm my bed. And it has nothing to do with fetching a hot water bottle, I bet.

"Ugh." I slap my palm to my forehead. Why is this fool hitting on me in such a situation? "You must think I'm royally stupid."

"I think you're royally tough to kill. And utterly gorgeous." The assassin flashes me a dazzling smile and winks. "Not that I think you will respond to simple flattery. But there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess."

"A... deadly sex goddess?" For a moment, I'm speechless. What's wrong with this idiot? Surely he realizes that I could pulverize him, should I wish to do so.

"So what shall it be? I'll even shine armour. You won't find a better deal, I promise." He eyes me hopefully.

Hmm, let's see. We could either kill him, or take him with us. If we were to take him with us, we'd have another ally against the darkspawn. Either that or he attempts to kill us again. I think I'll just take my chances. We could always kill him later. "All right, fine. You're coming with us, then."

" _What_?" Alistair shouts, his voice a mixture of horror and disbelief. "You're taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?" He sends me a heated glare.

"Come on, doesn't your armour need a good polish? He'll be useful, don't worry." I conjure a sweet smile and lay my hand on his arm. "If he isn't, we kill him anyway." Zevran doesn't look pleased at this remark of mine.

Alistair relaxes visibly. "All right, all right, I see your point. Still, if there was a sign we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello," he grumbles. Obvious disapproval. Well, I'll find a way to make it up to him. Even if I have to get on my knees to do it. Actually, that sounds like fun. Hmmm...

"Welcome, Zevran," Leliana greets our latest family member as she unties him. "Having an Antivan Crow join us sounds like a fine plan."

Said Crow looks pleasantly surprised as he looks her in the face for the first time. "Oh... I wasn't aware such loveliness existed amongst adventurers, surely."

The pretty minstrel manages to look both flattered and mildly disgusted. "Or maybe not."

Zevran swears his fealty to me and we are on our way. I'm going to have to watch this one, or rather, Stubbs is. He growls menacingly at the elf. Good boy.


	62. Return to Redcliffe - A Hot Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth and Morrigan bathe together.

### Return to Redcliffe - A Hot Bath

Even though Redcliffe is quite close and we could have made it before dark if we'd picked up the pace, we decided to take it more slowly and set up camp anyway. We're all tired and most of us are hurt. Zevran's been meek and compliant, following us without a word. Probably afraid of Stubbs. For a dog that acts like a happy puppy most of the time, he can be surprisingly fierce and scary. I love him so.

Oh, my poor face. Wynne's been kind enough to stitch the wound to keep scarring to a minimum, but it stung like nobody's business. It still stings, actually. Towel and bar of soap in hand, I retire to the nearby creek to wash away the blood. My robes will just have to stay dirty, seeing how they will never be dry enough to wear by the time we leave. Oh, crap. Wound in my side I completely forgot about. My robes are stuck to my flesh. Uh oh. Here goes nothing. _Argh!_ That hurt, but I'll get over it. I strip and leave all my articles of clothing on a nearby rock, my pack right next to it.

Goodness, this is cold. The water reaches up to my shoulders; it's a good thing I'm not taller, or my bits would be showing. I dunk my entire body under the water and emerge gasping. The temperature really takes one's breath away. The next thing I see when I've smoothed my hair out of my eyes, is Morrigan. "Would you take offense if I joined you?" she asks. "'Twould be so much more efficient."

"This is not _my_ water, Morrigan." I look up at her. "You don't have to ask. Feel free to jump in." Having grown up in a tower with communal baths, I've learned to dispose of any prudery.

With a nod she begins taking off her clothing. She has a beautiful figure, if a bit on the scrawny side. Her breasts are so naturally well-supported she doesn't even need a brassiere. Apparently she doesn't need knickers either. Before long she's joined me. "Oh, cold!" she exclaims, clasping her arms around herself.

"Refreshing, isn't it?" I've become used to the coldness of the water; even the goose bumps on my skin have disappeared. With the bar of soap I remove dried blood from my skin, wincing whenever a bit of it comes into contact with one of my numerous injuries. Ow.

"Do you need help washing your back?" Morrigan holds out her hand to me.

I deposit the bar of soap in it. "Sure, if you don't mind." Turning my back to her, I hang my hair over one shoulder.

"Your hair is so very long." Her voice has a tone of reverence to it as her smooth and presumably soapy hands trace small circles all over my back. "I have always wanted to grow my hair down to my knees, but Flemeth forbade it. Too impractical, she said."

"I love the way you wear your hair. It's very pretty, but still practical." I like how gently she's handling me. It's... oddly arousing. And we're both naked. This sounds like the scenario of a sordid tale waiting to happen.

Morrigan laughs, quite a rare sound. "Thank you. The wounds you sustained in Redcliffe are almost healed."

"How bad is the scarring?" I'd almost forgotten about those. Lately I'd been wondering why my back was so itchy. Silly me.

"Quite bad. Eight ragged lines, running from here," a delicate fingertip touches a spot halfway down my right shoulder blade and traces a diagonal line to almost the left side of my waist, "to here." The soft touch sends a shiver through my body. "All done."

"Thanks. Would you like me to help you too?" I take back the bar of soap.

The witch nods. "If you would be so kind." Turning her back to me, she continues: "You have not slept in days, it seems. Are you not fatigued?"

"Pff yeah, I'm incredibly tired." Her skin is silky smooth under my hands. "But I just can't seem to fall asleep, no matter what I try. Losing Cullen has really taken its toll on me."

Craning her neck, Morrigan sends me a stern look. "Truly, 'tis essential that you overcome this grief. What good could that templar have done you?"

"None, I suppose. His lot in life just wasn't compatible to my own, but we were young and stupid. And let's not forget really, really horny." I splash her shoulders with water to rinse off the foam.

"Horny?" There is an unmistakable tone of confusion there. "Are you saying that he was horned? I was unaware that your Chantry allowed Qunari into the templars."

I have to stifle a laugh. "No, it's just a newfangled word that means that you're very much in the mood for sex."

"Oh, you mean _amorous_. Now I understand." A low chuckle. "Horny," she muses. "Interesting new use of this word."

"Isn't it though?" For good measure I splash her some more. "There, clean as a whistle."

She turns to face me again. "Thank you. 'Twas quite agreeable, this bath, no?"

"It was. And efficient too!" I'm done here, so I clamber onto the bank and wrap my towel around myself. As I'm drying myself off and putting on my underwear, I find Morrigan staring at me. "What, is something wrong?"

"Astoreth, your legs are beautiful!" Her eyes seem to be studying them intently. "The curve of your calf is perfectly rounded." Lo and behold, she reaches out to give me a squeeze. "And 'tis so very firm as well." I swear, this girl is so weird. She once complained about how much the touching in human society bothered her, and yet she doesn't mind sticking her fingers into my mouth, washing my back and touching my bare leg. Strange and contradictory, but I don't mind one little bit. Maybe our ways are rubbing off on her, although I can't remember the last time someone else fed me by hand.

I smile at her. "Why, thank you, Morrigan. You have great breasts." A compliment deserves a counter-compliment.

"Do you not find them a tad small?" In an unbelievably sexy gesture, the witch cups her breasts and lightly presses them together. Should I find this sexy? First that desire demon, and now this. I'm learning new things about myself every day.

"Nah." I shrug. "They're round, perky and pleasing to the eye; what more could you wish for?"

"Hmm." Her lips curve into a smirk. "Nothing, if you put it like that." She laughs when my stomach rumbles audibly. "I believe 'tis time for you to have dinner. Count yourself lucky that Alistair was not the one cooking tonight."

I chuckle and quickly pull on my robes. "I fully agree with you on that. See you later."

~*|'-'|*~

Eight bowls full of stew ( _so_ tasty) that Leliana made later, I'm ready to head for my tent. Another sleepless night, I'm sure. How boring and exhausting. The newest addition to our group kept staring at me while I ate. The more food I shovelled in, the greater his eyes grew. Perhaps the women in Antiva don't have such ravenous appetites. Well, I suppose women in general don't have such ravenous appetites. Not even pregnant ones such as myself. Stubbs is still guarding the assassin faithfully, growling at him from time to time. Whenever he looks at me, however, he pants happily. It's almost as if he's smiling. Adorable. Maybe I could spend another night staring at Alistair while he sleeps? It's not like I have anything useful to do while I'm tossing and turning in my bedroll. I walk over to his tent and push away the flap. "Al?"

Already tucked in, but not yet sleeping, he raises his hand in greeting. "Hi."

"Can I sleep here with you?"

"Of course." He smiles warmly and opens his arms. "Come here, you."

I have to restrain myself from jumping into his tent, and instead crawl in at a decent speed to nestle myself in his embrace. "Thanks so much. Sweet dreams."

A soft kiss is planted on the crown of my head. "You too." His arms wind tightly around me. "You still haven't slept yet, have you?"

"Uhm, no. I can't fall asleep." I sigh. "Maybe with your warmth, I can." No response. "Al?"

All I hear is a light snoring. Asleep already. I'm so jealous.              


	63. Return to Redcliffe - Begone, Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to exorcise the demon.

### Return to Redcliffe - Begone, Demon

The mages have already arrived in Castle Redcliffe and seem to be awaiting us eagerly. Everything's already set up for the ritual to take place. As soon as he sees me, Jowan begins waving, but stops abruptly. He looks shocked. Am I that hideous now? Eh, I don't care. Do I have a reason to be pretty? I think not.

"Ah, there you are!" Irving greets me "We've brought lyrium and begun preparations for the ritual. We may begin anytime."

"So, only one person can go through?" Confronting a demon is no picnic, so it would be better to bring some company.

Irving nods. "We've only enough lyrium to send one mage into the Fade, I'm afraid."

Too bad. "Do you have any advice for me? How to best defeat that demon, that sort of thing?"

"It truly depends on the manner of demon. This one sounds like a spirit of greed and desire, one of the more powerful in the hierarchy. It will likely make you an offer. Avoid it. Making deals with demons never turns out well," Irving warns.

"Well then, let's get started, shall we?"

"I'm glad we decided to take this route," Alistair tells me. "This is really the best option."

Behind me I hear Sten growling about magic. It would seem he doesn't like it much.

"I assume you are going into the Fade," the First Enchanter speaks. "Or did you have someone else in mind?"

As a matter of fact, I do. With a nod in Jowan's direction, I say: "He'll be the one to go."

"What, me? Are you sure?" he asks nervously, looking at me directly for the first time.

"Yes. You wanted to help make things right, this is your chance. Take it."

Irving shakes his head in disbelief. "Loose a blood mage upon the Fade to meet a demon? What if he takes control of it?"

"He won't, if he knows what's good for him. This is his chance to redeem himself." I defiantly look Irving in the eye. Jowan has been my friend most of my life. The blood magic was a surprise, yes, but I know he's not serious about it, or corrupted in any way.

"You trust too much and too quickly," the old man replies gruffly. "But I will do as you ask."

Jowan nervously looks at Irving and me. "I'll do my best. I promise."

And so they head off into another room for the ritual. Maker's breath, I hope I made the right decision. Not that I doubt him, but what if the demon kills him instead? Perish the thought.

~*|'-'|*~

After what seemed like a whole age of me pacing around the room and receiving unkind glares from Lady Isolde, that damned harpy, the door opens and my old friend stumbles through. He grabs me by the shoulders in a feeble hold.

"It's done. The demon is gone." I can tell he's quite enthusiastic, despite the fatigue in his voice. I myself cannot really feel any cheer; all the while I've been plagued by thoughts of Cullen. And earlier I thought I was getting over all that. Oh boy, was I wrong. Jowan eyes me with concern. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just peachy." I turn to follow the arlessa and Bann Teagan upstairs. They rushed there as soon as they got the news.

Sadly, the arl is still very ill, lying in his large four-poster bed under thick covers, his face ashen. Connor is in the room too, apparently looking at some books on a shelf. He's so adorable. I just want to cuddle him and ruffle his hair, or something. Boo, my mother instincts are already kicking in.

"So it is over," Teagan says, half-relieved, half-worried. "Connor is back to his old self and seems to remember nothing, which is a blessing. I suppose we will need to send him to the Circle's tower for training, once the war is over. It's so odd to think of the boy as a mage, of all things." He looks at me apologetically, as if to tell me he means me no offense. Not that I would take any. We mages are a scary lot, or so I hear. "Eamon has much to mourn and rebuild should he recover. But at least he can be grateful that both his wife and son are safe," the bann continues.

Lady Isolde smiles at me. "I owe you my deepest thanks. I can scarcely believe that Connor is the boy he once was." Said boy runs over to his mother and hugs her before running off. Awww...

"There is still the matter of Jowan." Teagan turns to more serious business. "His poisoning of Eamon began this whole mess, yet he lives. We will hold him for Eamon to decide his fate. If he doesn't recover, Jowan's fate is sealed. What do you think?"

What _do_ I think? "Why are you asking me?"

"You are friends, are you not? Surely you know his faults better than any other."

"I suppose so." I sigh. Jowan, you fool. "I will tell you this: he has a good heart, but he's not the most sensible of people. And don't forget he defeated that demon himself. If it were up to me, I'd have him released."

"Released?" Isolde's ivory face is slowly turning red with indignation and anger. "Are you mad? Why would you do such a thing?" Because I need all the bloody help I can get to stop the Blight, that's why. And because I have somewhat of a soft spot for him, having grown up with the guy and whatnot. Well, I better not get on her bad side. Before you know it, she'll have me shipped off to some Chantry to become a templar. I don't think their uniform would suit me.

"I agree with Isolde; he is a maleficar. We cannot simply unleash him on the land and ignore his crimes." The bann also looks a tad miffed.

Unleash him on the land? How dramatic. I scoff. "A maleficar? Please. He's a love-struck fool who tried to run away with his girlfriend. He would never have used that blood magic if they weren't caught. Loghain is to be blamed for the arl's poisoning. All my friend wanted was to return to the Circle."

Isolde seems to be thinking over my words, but then discards them and continues looking at me angrily with her delicate hands clenched into fists at her sides, while Teagan rubs his chin in contemplation. "Even so," he hesitantly begins, "Eamon will be the one to decide his fate. I am sorry, but Jowan will be kept in the dungeon until my brother recovers."

I shrug. "That is up to you. And how will the arl recover? Would magic help? We happen to have a very skilled healer with us."

"It's been tried and we'll continue trying, but..."

"The Urn!" the arlessa cries out, effectively cutting off her husband's brother. "The Urn of Sacred Ashes will cure Eamon!"

Why, of course. "And I take it you need our help searching for this Urn?" Andraste's ashes. Maker's breath, what a wild goose chase. Maybe while I'm at it, I'll have to search for Maferath's britches too.

"My husband founded Brother Genitivi's research, a scholar in Denerim. He was studying the markings on Andraste's birth stone. When Eamon fell ill, I hoped he had finally located the whereabouts of the Urn of Sacred Ashes and sent some of the knights to speak with Genitivi. They were unable to locate him." Isolde sighs sadly. "In desperation, I sent out more knights in search of the brother or a clue to the Urn's location."

So what now? Do I leave these people to rot, to watch their father, brother and husband slowly die? I think not. And more importantly, we need the arl's help: we need his army to fight the darkspawn and that blighter Loghain. "Fine, I'll see if I can find this relic. But I make no promises; maybe Genitivi himself has no idea where it could be."

"Perhaps you should locate the scholar's home in Denerim and search it to see where he might be. I think that is the best place to start," Isolde offers. Apparently the woman's been pacified now that I've agreed to look for this miracle cure. "For today, you shall be our guests and stay the night in our castle."

"That is very hospitable of you, my lady. Most kind." I dip into a deep bow. That is very nice of her, unexpected even. I thought she'd immediately shoo us away. Were Teagan not here, I bet she would have.


	64. Return to Redcliffe - A Nightly Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth is visited by a friend in the middle of the night.

### Return to Redcliffe - A Nightly Visit

The arlessa had her servants (they came flocking from the village as soon as word got out that what had caused the nightly attacks was gone) prepare all of us a lavish meal and a luxurious bedroom. By that time, Irving and his mages had already left to continue their rebuilding of the Circle. Not even the prospect of a wonderful meal could persuade them to stay longer.

My clothes are all being washed. The servant who took my clothes from me wrinkled her nose in disgust upon seeing all the blood and dirt on it. The arlessa was kind enough to lend me a dress she wore during her pregnancy. I'm not offended, even if she meant it as some kind of underhanded jab at my voluptuous figure; she's much thinner than I am, so it makes sense. She's also taller, which means her dress is sweeping the floor wherever I go. And I've done plenty of exploring. Should save the servants some work, I imagine.

I couldn't find the will to eat properly, no matter how tasty everything looked. Instead I just picked at a small plate of vegetables, meat and potatoes so nobody would get worried. I managed to eat all of it, but it took a very long time. When I informed the others of our upcoming search of the Urn of Sacred Ashes, most of them just shrugged and continued eating and talking. Except for Sten, of course, who grumbled something in his own language. And Leliana became very excited, adoring fan of the Maker and His prophetess as she is.

So now I'm sitting in my room and playing with the beautiful rose Alistair gave me, illuminated by the glow of the roaring fireplace. That's right, my own fireplace. I decided to take advantage of it, since it's always so cold on the road. It is toasty warm in here. My bed is so lovely, very large and comfortable with many soft pillows. I sent Stubbs to keep an eye on Zevran, which he is undoubtedly doing very well.

When I checked my face in a mirror, the stitching was beautifully done (and my eyes are sunken and empty-looking, as I thought). The cut is long and jagged, running from my right cheekbone in a curved line almost down to my chin. It's bound to leave a scar, but I'm done being vain. What's the point, right? It's not like the darkspawn will appreciate it. My fingers are neatly bandaged; I'm very lucky none of the tendons were severed, or I'd have a problem right about now. Maker's breath, I look as if I've been in a particularly nasty tavern brawl.

I don't need a lot of clothing in this fine warmth and had Isolde's dress washed as well. Instead I'm wearing Cullen's shirt, repaired with rough stitches down the middle to avoid unintentionally flashing anyone my bare chest. Sadly his scent is completely gone from it. Maybe it's not very smart of me, since I'd like to forget him, but I...

Suddenly there's a knock on my door. Who would that be at this hour? Alistair? No, it's not him; I can sense he's close by, but it's not him in front of my door. So who could it be? I walk over to the door, having lain my rose on the nightstand, and as I open it the light falls on my old friend's skinny form. For some reason, he's holding a tray in his hands. What's he doing here? "Did the arlessa let you out of your cage?" I keep my voice low so nobody will awaken.

Jowan shakes his head. "No, Bann Teagan forgot to lock my cell in all the commotion. May I come in?" Yes, why not? It's not like I have anything better to do. I step back and open the door farther so he can enter. He immediately deposits his tray on the desk. "I thought you might need some cheering up," he says, offering me a small plate with a slice of some unknown cake on it.

"That's nice of you, but I'm not hungry." I gently push the plate back his way.

In the soft orange glow, I can see worry flashing in his eyes. "What is wrong? The Astoreth I know would never turn down cake."

I shrug and sit on the bed. "Nothing's wrong."

"You're a terrible liar. Come on, have a bite." A fork with a chunk of cake heaped on it hovers before my lips.

When I open my mouth to decline, Jowan just shoves the thing into my mouth. ...Wow, that is some good cake. It's soft, smooth, creamy, sweet and tastes faintly of cookies. "What is this?" I have nothing against talking with my mouth full.

"Orlesian cheesecake, the arlessa's favourite. Do you like it? I would've brought you something made of chocolate, since you girls seem to like it so, but there was nothing of the sort." Without waiting for a response, he stuffs another mouthful into me. And so on, and so on, until the plate is empty.

I contently wipe my mouth. "That was delicious." Doesn't taste like cheese though.

"I knew you'd like it," my visitor says proudly. "Here." He hands me a cup and I immediately take a sip. You dummy, he poisoned someone! But no, it only appears to be milk. Milk? Such a lucky coincidence.

"You look better, by the way." I study him. No longer covered in blood and dirt, I can finally see how hurt he really is. He has several cuts on his face, one through an eyebrow, a large faded bruise on his jaw. Judging from the pleasant smell that surrounds him, he managed to take a bath. The tattered, filthy robes are gone; instead he is in a cotton shirt and leather pants, sturdy boots on his feet. Wonder where he got those. "I've never seen you wear anything like this."

"I miss my robes," he confesses. "These trousers are a bit... tight." He chuckles awkwardly.

I drain the cup and place it on the night stand. "Oh, well, I think you look nice."

"Thanks. What happened to your face? And why do you look like you just clawed your way out of a grave?" He moves to sit next to me and looks at me curiously.

So I look _exactly_ as I thought. "I haven't slept since getting trapped in the Fade. And we got ambushed by assassins on the way here, that's how we got that elf." That numbness has returned. So strange, almost as if I'm not in my own body.

Jowan gasps and clutches my hands. "Trapped in the Fade? What happened?" So I tell him of the troubles in the Tower, the sloth demon, my antics in his realm and eventually killing Uldred. "Is that why you look so sad? Is Cullen dead?" He gives my hands a light squeeze.

"Thankfully, no." I sigh. "But we are no longer together." It hurts so much to think of this.

"What? Why not?" He releases my hands and encircles my shoulders with one arm. "What about your baby?"

"I never told him." As he opens his mouth to comment on this, I can only laugh bitterly. "So what if he knew? What would he do; run away with me so we could get married? You tried this and we all know how well _that_ worked out." Jowan immediately drops both of his hands into his lap and stares at them despondently. "I'm sorry. That was harsh." I lean my head against my friend's shoulder. "I apologize."

He slowly shakes his head. "No, you're right. I should've left Lily well alone. Maybe the same goes for you and Cullen."

"Maybe? Try certainly. I was very stupid. Looks like we have a lot in common." I notice his arm is back around my shoulder, so I slip mine around his waist. "Still, they say it's better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. I regret nothing; it was a good experience. Live and learn."

"Hey, I'm not stupid," he protests weakly. "I wanted to thank you, by the way."

I lift my head off his shoulder to look him in the eye. "Whatever for?"

"You gave me the chance to help make things right. So, thank you." He bends down to lightly press his lips to my cheek.

I shrug. "It was no trouble. What are friends for, right?" No emotion in my voice. How sarcastic I must sound.

"What has happened to you? Fine, it's over with Cullen, but Maker's breath, is that any reason to act like you're dead, like you don't care about anything?" Jowan suddenly lashes out, forcefully grabbing my upper arms and shaking me.

"It's reason enough if the man you love was tortured by blood mages and demons, if he no longer trusts you because of it! I never asked to be born a fucking mage!" I hiss at him. I don't know how it happened, but anger has begun bubbling fiercely in the pit of my stomach. How dare this fool question the manner in which I cope with my grief? I give him a hard push, forcing him to release my arms. "You dare criticize _me_ on the way I behave? _You_ poisoned Arl Eamon and thrust Redcliffe into chaos!" I'm so fucking pissed off everything looks red before my eyes; a few more words that rub me the wrong way and I swear I'm going to set him on fire.

Jowan flinches and cringes away from me. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't know," he whispers pitifully.

The red haze that obstructs my sight slowly drains away. Of course he didn't know. "Forgive me. These past few days have taken a lot out of me. But you know how it feels to lose the one you love, don't you?"

He nods. "Yes." His voice slightly quivers. With fear?

"Was I that scary?" How odd. I'm merely a little woman, and a physically weak one at that.

"Y-yes. I... I thought you were going to attack me. Not that I deserve any better." My old friend hangs his head, still racked with guilt.

"Don't say that." I take his chin in my hand to look into his sad blue eyes. "Of course you deserve better than that. Wasn't it you who killed that demon?"

He scowls. "Only because you allowed me to; the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. Thank you for having faith in me."

"And how were your adventures in the Fade, oh mighty vanquisher of demons?"

My old friend laughs at his new title. "Not as grand as yours, I'm afraid. It was strange, there were these shadowy figures of Connor and the arl, all looking for the other. The arl was trapped, and he... recognized me." His voice takes on a sad tone.

"Called you names, did he?"

"Yes, something like that. Anyway, I had to fight that demon a few times. Irving was right about the type. She made me offers of power, pleasure, all kinds of things. But I said, no! I've been given the chance to do something right, and by the Maker, I will!" Clearly on a roll, he shakes his fist at an invisible enemy. "So I killed her and that was that."

I smack him on the shoulder and make a mess of his hair. "Well done!"

"All thanks to you." My friend grins proudly at me. "Why do you believe in me?" he suddenly asks.

"Because I know you have a good heart and you deserve another second chance." I can feel the corners of my mouth curving up, but I don't think it's a pretty smile. It's wan at best.

"I really appreciate that. You are a true friend." His expression turns to one of concern as he carefully traces the wound on my cheek with a finger. "This looks painful."

I shrug. "It's not so bad. The stitching hurt most."

"You could've easily healed this away. Why didn't you?" His face is so close to mine I feel his breath against me as he curiously looks at my injury.

"Because I want to look tough, that's why."

He looks at me as if I've lost my marbles. "You must be joking."

"Of course, dummy. See, we got ambushed because I'm a dumb, trusting fool. A woman ran up to us claiming her wagon had been attacked and I fell for it hook, line and sinker. That earned me this cut and the scar will remind me that I shouldn't just jump to a stranger's rescue." I shrug again. "It could've ended much worse. None of us died and we got a nifty assassin out of it."

Jowan's eyebrows have nearly disappeared into his hairline. "You're taking someone who's... Uhm, you're bleeding." He looks at me with wide eyes.

I see a red stain spreading on the white fabric of my sleeve. "Oh, that's from the arrow I took earlier." Rolling up my sleeve, I find the bandage around my upper arm is soaked with blood. He must've torn the wound open when he shook me. There is no pain, oddly enough. I retrieve fresh bandages and some healing poultice from my hip pouch, which my friend is quick to take over from me. Without a word he cleans away the blood, applies the poultice and the new bandage. "Thank you." I roll my sleeve down again and smile at him.

He smiles back. "It's no trouble." Suddenly he looks uncomfortable. "Has anyone told you of what will happen to me? Will I be executed?"

"Well..." This is kind of sad; there is no way this will have a happy ending. "It would seem that the arlessa wants to see you hang for what you did, but Teagan wants his brother to decide your fate. I said I wanted you released, but of course they didn't fall for that." I hang my head. "I'm sorry. Chances are that you will be put to death eventually."

"Don't be sad for me, Astoreth. I don't deserve anything else." He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me a little closer. After a few moments of silence, he says: "Say, can I feel your baby?"

"Why, of course." I stand before him and lift my shirt above my belly. "Knock yourself out."

First he looks embarrassed, probably because my panties are in full view, but then he places both hands on my belly. Wide-eyed with curiosity, his hands run slowly up and down. "It doesn't feel like there's a baby in here," he says with disappointment in his voice.

"It's just been a few months. Give it some more time and I'm sure it will be far more obvious." Maker, I'm going be huge. Let's hope no darkspawn gets the bright idea to stab me in the gut.

Jowan sighs sadly. "I don't think I'll be around to see you grow." He presses his cheek against my stomach, that ever present stubble of his pricking into my skin.

"I'm so sorry." I run my fingers through his silky hair as tears well up in my eyes. See, always powerless, nothing I can do, ever. Although something is whining at the back of my mind, something important. Something that could help him. I just can't put my finger on it.

"So uhm, what if I were to have, say, a last request?" My old friend awkwardly clears his throat and averts his eyes away from me, his face flushed.

"What is it you'd like? You know I'd do practically anything for you, especially now." I briefly stroke his cheek.

Jowan raises his head to look into my eyes. "May I spend the night here with you?" He follows it up with an uncomfortable cough and some fidgeting.

"Certainly, you can sleep here if you like. I'm sure it beats that tiny cell of yours." And then it dawns on me. " _Oh_ … You don't want to sleep, do you?" Well, that was unexpected.

He utters an uneasy laugh. "No, not exactly. You always used to beg me to take you to bed, and this might just be my last chance. I figured it's a win-win situation." Then he rises and tentatively places his hands on my hips. They are trembling noticeably. "And now that neither of us is committed to anyone, there can hardly be any harm." His pale blue eyes are scanning my face, probing my reaction.


	65. Return to Redcliffe - Finally Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will she or won't she?

### Return to Redcliffe - Finally Sleep

"I..." Well, why am I hesitating? Not two years ago I was having wild fantasies about him. So, take your chance, girl! But it's too soon after Cullen. Is it really? It's been months since I've felt _real_ pleasure, the kind of pleasure only a man can give. "All right. We'll uh, we will spend the night together." My words come out in a low whisper. Suddenly I feel so _nervous_.

"Your hair looks beautiful like this, by the way," Jowan says in a small, shaky voice, nervously playing with my braid.

At least he's as anxious as I feel. "I uh, thank you?" Argh, this is so nerve-racking. Think sexy thoughts! No, sadly that seems to be impossible at the moment. How did my first time go? Oh no, I seem to have forgotten. When Jowan slowly leans in to kiss me, I can't help but fly into a fit of maniacal giggles. My entire body quakes and convulses; if I weren't being held, I would've flopped about on the floor like a fish. "I'm so sorry," I gasp, "but this is just awkward..." The giggling slowly subsides.

"Did you get that out of your system?" my guest asks, his eyebrows raised in amusement. I nod and he responds: "Good. Now come here." So he promptly grabs me by the back of the head and firmly plants his lips on mine.

And just like that *poof* the awkwardness is gone and my knees go weak. Have I not been waiting for this for months? Granted, I wasn't thinking of my childhood friend, but beggars can't be choosers. I wanted lips to kiss, arms to hold me, a body to make love to and here they are. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I part my lips and his tongue slides in to carefully caress mine, his arms tightly wound around my waist and his hands resting on my behind. Not resting, actually; his fingers are busily tracing the edge of my panties and the flesh this article of clothing can't cover. Not to be outdone, I slip my hands under his shirt to explore the feel of his body. On the smoothness of his skin I feel many rough spots, undoubtedly the result of his torture. I wonder what I'll find under his shirt. As I pull it up, he's quick to break our kiss and raise his arms to help me take it off him. His entire upper body is covered in bruises, cuts and burns, like an illustration of agony. That poor, skinny little thing.

"You look terrible!" But I don't intend to dwell on that for too long. I run my tongue along his neck, carefully nipping at his skin. The soft, clean scent of soap surrounds him.

"Says the thing that clawed her way out of a grave," he retorts in a barely suppressed moan. "You're not exactly a shining example of health yourself."

"Oh, I'm healthy enough, trust me." My hand disappears into his trousers to teasingly run a finger along his hardened shaft, eliciting a surprised moan from my best friend's lips. It's not so difficult, is it? I wanted him to do me for years and now I'm finally getting my wish. Better late than never. He allows me to coax him backward and to push him onto the bed. When I straddle his midsection, Jowan looks up at me with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment on his face. Ah, but I'm such a sucker for the shy ones. I exaggeratedly fan my face with my hands and say in a coy voice: "It's so _warm_ in here. Do you think I should take my shirt off?"

Quite unexpectedly, he sits up and takes me in his arms. "No, not just yet," he whispers. Our mouths meet for another kiss and this time, Jowan isn't quite as careful. His tongue is eagerly taking a tour of my mouth as his hands are roaming my bare thighs. I notice that his hands are smoother and more delicate than the hands I was used to feeling on me, but they don't fail to send sparks flying through my body.

It's been so long since the last time a man touched me this way; it's as if I'm so much more sensitive. A familiar tension begins building in my stomach and as I tilt my pelvis to rub my crotch up against his rock-hard erection, the tiniest bit of friction against my button causes that tension to erupt into the welcome waves of an extremely intense orgasm. I arch my back and detach my mouth from my lover's to utter a series of low, subdued moans (no need to inform any others of what is going on in here) until my climax is done ravaging my senses.

I open my eyes to find my friend staring at me curiously. "What just happened?" he asks.

"Well, I uhm, just came." I sigh; my vision is blurry with satisfaction. He hardly even touched me and I've never come this hard. Either he's very good, or I haven't had any in a long time. Or maybe both.

He chuckles mischievously. "So now you're very sensitive, right?" he drawls. The hand that creeps under my shirt makes me shiver with delight and squeal in pleasure when it cups my breast, tweaking my nipple. Suddenly my shirt is gone and my other breast is covered with little kisses and the occasional lick. All I can do is simply enjoy this wonderful treatment and try not to scream. Surely I've deserved this after these long, long months of celibacy followed by heartbreak?

But I suppose poor Jowan deserves a thing or two as well. Of course he got himself into this mess, but he's been trying so hard to make things right. I shouldn't be this selfish. "Wait." I grab his wrists to take his hands off me and pin them above his head. "Let me take care of you," I whisper into his ear.

"Sounds good." His voice sounds thick with lust, all embarrassment and awkwardness abandoned. Perfect. We briefly kiss before I make my way down his torso, kissing, licking and nibbling at the uninjured parts of his skin. And then I arrive at the pronounced bulge at the front of his trousers. My, my, how very promising this looks.

Slowly I unlace his pants and his member (still hidden behind his smalls) jumps out at me as if it's very happy to see me. This looks even more promising. I stick my hand down his smallclothes to encircle him. Mmm. He doesn't appear to be very long, but the girth is quite impressive; I'm having trouble closing my hand around it. A gasp escapes his lips as soon as he feels my hand on him, followed by more when I stroke him a few times.

That's it, I cannot take this any longer; I simply must taste him on my tongue. I swiftly pull his pants down, taking his smalls with it. For a moment I stare at his erection in wonder; it's as straight as an arrow, the tip such a dark shade of pink it's almost red. Actually, it looks kind of cute. The tip gets a little kiss from me and he shudders under my touch, accompanied by a moan. When I open my mouth to curl my tongue around him, the moaning becomes louder. How encouraging.

I begin sucking on the tip, using my hand to stroke the rest of him. A salty taste fills my mouth.             His length allows me to fully devour him and not gag at all. I move my mouth up and down his cock, slowly caressing it with my tongue. He takes in sharp, hissing breaths with every touch, until the faint throbbing in the organ increases and his breath hitches in his throat.

With a barely stifled groan, my dearest friend grows slightly and squirts of semen are deposited into my mouth. It's warm, thick, and hardly bitter, actually. It tastes almost sweet as it glides down my throat. Quite nice. I clamber back up again; the way my nipples graze his sweat-slicked skin gives me goose bumps. Balancing myself on top of him, I plant my elbows firmly on either side of his head and grin at him. It pleases me to no end to see how he's panting and almost cross-eyed with ecstasy, beads of sweat rolling down his face. "Well then, did I do all right?" I kiss the tip of his nose.

With his hands resting lamely on the small of my back, Jowan proclaims: "Maker's breath, you're _good_."

"I take it that is a yes?" Never mind the answer; of course it is. I bend down and press my lips onto his to promptly plunge my tongue into his mouth. His reaction is quite enthusiastic: in one fluid motion he flips me onto my back, pulls down my panties and begins caressing my swollen, wet nether lips. These aren't the fingers of an amateur, no ser. Lily must've been one happy girl.

His ministrations make me so hot that sweat begins pouring from my skin, but he avoids touching my button, that foul tease. Instead he slowly slips a finger into me, and commences blazing a trail down the side of my neck with lips, tongue and teeth, leaving me to whimper in torturous pleasure. Feeling him suck on my nipples pushes me close to the brink, but not yet over it. _So_ close. Goodness gracious me.

But I'm not going to just lie here like a ragdoll. Or maybe I am, because I can't seem to reach his good bits from this position. Ah, well. Andraste's mercy, the urge to just force him onto his back and start riding his rod as if it's a horse that will help me escape the archdemon is incredibly strong and only becomes stronger when that single finger moving in and out of me is joined by another. Must... resist...

And then his soft, wet tongue is on my button and I no longer have to resist. Insane pleasure ripples through my body in maddening waves, sending me bucking and grinding against his tongue while I grab a handful of his hair and roughly pull it. I taste blood in my mouth and notice I bit my lip too hard from trying to keep quiet. The waves of my orgasm slowly recede and I loosen my grip on my lover. His fingers retreat from me, only to be replaced by his incredibly thick cock mere moments later.

Jowan kisses me as if he's starving for me, the taste of my blood mixing with the taste of my juices. Exasperatingly slowly he inches his way into me, stretching me, filling me like I've never been filled before. I nearly faint with pleasure when he is fully in me. So hard and thick, it's like I've died and gone to the Golden City.

"Are you all right?" he suddenly asks, his voice but a hoarse whisper.

"I'm not all right; I'm bloody ecstatic," I manage to croak out and wrap my legs around him. His only response is to begin fucking me in long, slow thrusts, almost pulling all the way out before plunging in deeper. I cry out his name, not too loudly of course, dig my nails into his shoulders. Oh Maker, this is what I was fantasizing about when I was younger, but the real thing is infinitely better than all those fantasies combined.

Soon his thrusting becomes harder and faster and I drag my nails down his back, no doubt drawing blood. His teeth are on the side of my neck, scraping and biting, all semblance of gentleness flown out the window. All I can do is moan into his ear and pant breathless phrases about how great he feels in me, how wonderful his cock is and to fuck me harder, harder, harder. If he keeps this up much longer, I'm not even sure I can survive this onslaught of bliss on my senses. I sink my teeth into his shoulder to keep from crying out while he does the same to me.

After what seems like an eternity of our bodies fused together in an animalistic frenzy, the familiar throbbing begins. He expands inside me and climaxes, his entire body quivering, his teeth sinking deeper into my flesh. The feral snarls that accompany this phenomenon almost make me come too; almost, but not quite. I'm kind of sad I missed the expression on his face.

Again the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, but this time it's not mine. I release his shoulder and see scarlet droplets welling to the surface. My own shoulder hurts like crazy; no doubt he's done the same to me. Jowan rolls off me and flops onto his back, panting and wheezing as if he's run a mile at top speed, as I am doing myself.

He turns his face towards me, a wide smile lighting up his features. "That was _intense_ ," he says.

"So it was." I stretch, and yawn. "Has your last wish been fulfilled, then?"

He nods. "That and more." Snuggling up to me closer, he drapes his arm across my waist. "I like how there are no hard edges to you, just cushy softness, as a woman should be."

I blink a few times. "I'm not sure how to respond to that." I shrug. "Thanks, I guess."

"I must've been blind," Jowan says cryptically, staring at me intently.

I yawn again. Sleepy. "Huh? What?"

"You're so beautiful, Tori." His voice is full of affection as his fingers trace the outline of my lips. "I just never noticed."

My old nickname? "You stopped calling me that years ago." My best friend used to call me Tori because he had trouble pronouncing Astoreth. And now he's not only calling me that, but also beautiful. The blood loss must be getting to his brain. I yawn yet again. Wow, maybe I'll actually be able to sleep tonight. It's getting really difficult to keep my eyes open.

"Yes, I know, but..." From my half-closed eyes I can see him smiling gently. "You're sleepy, aren't you?" He turns up the covers and nudges me under them. I just let him; too tired to do anything myself. Oh my, this bedding is so soft and fluffy, this pillow, just perfect. Behind me Jowan gets under the covers too and nestles up to me, softly nuzzling my neck. "Sweet dreams, Tori," he mutters in my ear. Well, if he is using this childhood memory, I might as well too.

"Sweet dreams, Jowse." I hear a little chuckle behind me before rapidly drifting away. Finally, sleep.


	66. Return to Redcliffe - The Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything looks better after a good night's sleep.

### Return to Redcliffe - The Cure

A soft, continuous knocking at my door awakens me. I slowly open my eyes and feel as fresh as a daisy. Finally, a good night's sleep! But apparently I'm not alone, judging from the warm body that's closely cuddled up to my back. What in the Maker's name have I done last night?

Oh, I remember. Jowan came into my room last night and had a rather special last request. To take a tumble with me. Well, apparently it was exactly what I needed. Despite the intimacy of what we've done together, I don't feel awkward, embarrassed or ashamed at all. I _knew_ it would change nothing between us! Turning around carefully to make sure I don't wake him, I look into his sleeping face. He's smiling a little, sometimes mumbling things I can't make out, his eyes fluttering about under their lids. He's not at all the kind of man I usually take a fancy to, but Maker's breath, is he a fine lover.

The knocking on the door becomes more insistent. Right. That was what woke me in the first place. I'm such an airhead. Of course I'm still as naked as the day I was born, so I get out of bed to find my shirt. It's crumpled in the corner. Pulling it over my head, I open the door and poke my head outside. The servant who took my clothes has returned, holding my robes and other garments. They are folded into a neat little pile; even from here I can smell the fresh scent that comes from them.

"Good morning, my lady," the young woman says with an inclination of her head. "Your clothing is washed and dried. Here you are." She hands me the pile.

"Thank you very much. Would it be possible to request a tub of warm water and a towel from you?" I could certainly use some cleaning up after last night's exertions.

"Certainly. It will be brought to you as quickly as possible," she replies. "Is there anything else?"

"No, that will be all. Thank you." I smile at her and she leaves me after bowing politely.

I hardly even get any time to close the door before another servant appears with my warm water and towel. This one is as polite as the woman who brought my robes, bowing before taking his leave. With the towel slung over my shoulder and the tub in my hands, I push the door closed behind me with my foot, careful not to make any noise. Wouldn't want my visitor to miss any sleep in this comfortable bed.

Not only do I feel infinitely better, I look better too. Not like something that clawed its way out of a grave, but like a living person who's been a bit injured. My lower lip is slightly swollen from when I bit into it, but the cut on my cheek seems to be healing nicely. It even itches. There are several love bites on my neck and shoulders, along with some teeth marks. That's sure to earn me some smart comments. My hair is a mess, so I undo the braid and smooth it down. Leliana tried to teach me how to braid it myself, but my clumsy fingers cannot perform such a task, it would seem.

I use the warm water (exactly the right temperature) to clean up and dry myself off with the towel, before retrieving a fresh pair of knickers from my pack and putting them on. My stomach is growling like an angry mabari. I hope the arlessa won't mind me raiding her larder. And if she does, tough titties. Damn, my bodice is straining to close around my belly. At some point I will probably have to buy myself a brassiere. Good thing we'll be heading to Denerim soon. The capital of Ferelden is bound to sell such items. Oh my, I wonder what they use here to launder clothing. My robes smell like a field full of spring flowers. Cheesy, but true.

Thinking of Cullen doesn't hurt me so much anymore. Apparently it's not time that heals all wounds, but a really good shag. Tsk, tsk. I'm so shallow. I sit on the bed next to my sleeping friend. He looks so peaceful. It's sad he will probably be put to death, though if I'm honest, he isn't entirely undeserving of it. Wish there were a way to save him.

He could've just run away as soon as he found out his cell wasn't locked. It's honourable that he didn't. Sooner or later his actions would've caught up with him anyway. And I'm glad he decided to spend time with me instead. It was so amazing; I'm sure memories of it will keep me warm for many a night. Running my fingers through his hair, I bend down and kiss his cheek.

And now for some food. I'm fucking famished.


	67. Return to Redcliffe - Breakfast Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's coming for breakfast?

### Return to Redcliffe - Breakfast Treat

Zevran and Stubbs are already in the dining room, surrounded by servants who are placing all manners of food on the table. Strangely, my dog is sitting on a chair too. I scratch him between the ears. "Good morning, boy." He barks and happily pounds his tail against the chair. "Good morning, Zevran." Gee, I just feel so bloody cheerful it's almost unnatural. My mouth is stretched into a stupid grin as I sit across from my companions.

The assassin seems very surprised by my greeting. "Good morning." He eyes me curiously. "You look a lot better than yesterday."

Ah, now that I'm more rested, his smooth accent is like honey gliding down my ears. "Do I really?"

He nods and hands me a basket of bread. "Judging from the way your stomach is growling, you might want some of this, Warden." The elf also offers me some butter. "It's all fresh," he adds.

"Thank you." I dump half of the contents of the bread basket onto my plate and liberally slather the thick slices of bread with butter. Ah, delicious, simply divine. "Excuse me, do you have any milk?" I tug a nearby servant's sleeve. He nods and leaves to return with a large jug and a cup. "You can leave that here. Thank you." The servant gives me a funny look, but goes on with his business anyway. I drain three cups in quick succession, followed by six slices of bread. My stomach's still not satisfied, so I grab the rest of the bread as well.

When Jowan walks in, all bright and cheery, I almost choke on my food. What's he doing in here? While I cough and Stubbs and Zevran look at me with both worry and curiosity, he saunters up to me. "Good morning, Tori." He greets me with a kiss on the cheek, lingering a bit too long to be merely friendly, before sitting down beside me. He nods at the others present, frowning briefly upon seeing a big happy hound sitting on a chair. Zevran nods back, but gives me a knowing look. Mind your own business, you.

"What are you doing here? Get back in your cell before the arlessa or Bann Teagan see you!" I hiss.

"Aw, but I'm hungry," he whines and steals a slice of my bread. He stuffs it down his mouth before I can snatch it back. As I glare at him angrily, he playfully sticks out his tongue. How could I stay mad at that? I shrug and continue buttering my bread. Of which my buddy will inevitably steal a few slices, no doubt.

While I'm munching away at the deliciously soft bread, I feel a hand gliding across my stocking in an intimate caress. I look off to my side to see Jowan smiling innocently at me, the innocence in his expression belied by his hand moving between my legs and stroking my inner thigh. This is so incredibly depraved and filthy; I like it. Suddenly I'm very happy for the slit in my robes that sometimes so unpleasantly brings the boys to the courtyard.

I readily spread my legs to grant him easier access. Now to distract the others; if I don't distract them (and myself) I will make what is happening painfully obvious. His fingers brush my panties ever so slightly and I bite my lip to keep from moaning. "So Zevran, how much were you paid to kill us?"

The former Crow, who was quietly eating some fruit and minding his own business, looks up. "I wasn't paid anything," he says dryly. "The Crows however, were paid quite handsomely. Or so I understand."

This is odd; it's as if my skin is tingling, my senses heightened. I am two persons: one of them revelling in the clandestine caresses and the other holding a conversation with the elf across from her. "Then what would you get out of this?" I hear myself ask on a pleasant, conversational tone.

Zevran laughs heartily. "Oh, the Crows aren't so bad. They keep one well supplied: wine, women, men. Whatever you happen to fancy." He adds a saucy wink to that last statement. Women _and_ men? Hmm, how appealing.

"Ha, now you're making me want to join," my alter ego laughs cheerfully. She is even capable of humour. I don't think I'm cut out to kill people all stealthy and sneaky-like. My killing people is usually rather messy and involves them blowing up or turning into ice and shattering or something equally unpleasant.

The assassin chuckles. "I'd think twice about that, if I were you. You seem like a bright girl. I'm sure you've other options."

When Alistair walks in and distracts the other guests, I briefly close my eyes to enjoy the feel of my friend's fingers teasingly stroking my swollen lips, his hand stealthily slipped into my undergarment. Maker's mercy, he's making me _so_ wet. The other part of me just waves and wishes the newcomer a good morning.

"Good morning!" the other Warden says cheerfully. His cheerful demeanour quickly turns sour when he spots Jowan. "What is he doing here? Did you let him out again?" he asks me.

Before I can answer, Jowan says: "No, Bann Teagan forgot to lock my cell door." Apparently unfazed, his slow and deliberate caresses continue, continue driving me almost insane.

"Huh." Alistair scratches his head and moves to sit beside Zevran. "Why didn't you just flee then?"

"I'm done with running away and hiding from what I've done." Jowan's tone is grave, despite the maddening pleasure he must know he's bringing me. "I will await whatever fate Arl Eamon has in store for me." His teasing fingers move upward to trace circles around my clitoris; my breath gets caught in my throat. Oh, Maker... The pleasure that begins fanning out from deep within my stomach is almost too much to bear.

Still, my alter ego folds an arm around her friend's shoulders and ruffles his hair. "Yeah, he's finally come to his senses." My voice sounds perfectly normal.

For a moment, Alistair is silent. "Well, good for you!" he eventually says approvingly. "Hand me the butter, will you?" That's directed at me.

I grab a hold of the small jar of butter and pass it to my fellow Warden. My orgasm announces itself forcefully, but the detached part of me just engages in small talk with the others while I quake and quiver, scream and shout with the tidal wave of bliss swallowing me. My body shows none of this, however. Jowan's caresses become slower and slower until he stops and his hand leaves me, aware of my climax. I let out a long, satisfied breath of air and am just one person again. That was such a strange experience. Am I crazy, or something? It wouldn't really surprise me if that were the case. After all, one who has long conversations with dolls and ill-advised affairs with templars cannot be very sane.

"Look, maybe you should escort your friend back to his cell before anyone sees him. The arlessa will tear your head off for it if she finds out," Alistair suddenly says. Well, I have no doubt she would. Verbally at least. For a delicate little noblewoman she's a rather fierce creature.

"Wouldn't want that to happen," Jowan chuckles. He gets up and offers me his hand. "Let's go."

"But I've not finished eating." All the bread has magically disappeared from my plate though. "Did you eat my food?" I cast my friend an accusing glance.

He nods, giving me a look of both regret and mirth. I sigh. Can't let my guard down with him around. Meals at the tower were much the same, as I recall. My plate was never safe. And then there was that silly cat sometimes stealing my food. "Fine then, let's go." Quickly I empty another cup of milk. I lay my hand in his and he helps me up.

As we are just outside the room, I hear Alistair and Zevran loudly whispering about the relationship between Jowan and me. Alistair seems convinced we are merely very good friends, while Zevran insists there is more going on. Even Stubbs seems to be engaged in the conversation, though none of us speaks the language of dogs. I roll my eyes. Men are such busybodies.


	68. Return to Redcliffe - In the Dungeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth walks Jowan back to his cell, where they celebrate their friendship.

### Return to Redcliffe - In the Dungeon

On the way to the dungeon we didn't run into anyone of note, only servants whom I suspect are not at all aware of my friend's role in the arl's illness. They all greeted us as if we were normal houseguests, at any rate. Jowan's been awfully quiet on the way down, deep in thought, judging from the way he's chewing his lip. He snaps to when I open the door to his cell for him.

"Thank you for all you've done for me," he says, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. Gratitude is written all over his face.

I cast him a smile. "You're welcome. And thank _you_ for secretly fingering me under the breakfast table." I giggle girlishly.

"Oh, that was fun." He grins proudly, his cheeks flushing a slight shade of pink. "I can't believe you were so stoic."

"Frankly, neither can I." I stick my arms through the bars of his door and he folds his hands around mine. "I don't want you to die, Jowse." Suddenly I feel so very emotional.

"Don't be sad for me," he replies resolutely. "I need to face what I've done. You know this, don't you?"

"Still, if there is a way to save you, you can count on it I'll bloody well use it." I can be resolute too. Adamant, even. And let me tell you, I am adamant in this. If I can keep him alive, I will.

He releases my hands and cups my face to gently stroke my cheeks with his thumbs. "Don't worry yourself on my account." Suddenly his eyes light up. "I have something I'd like to give you."

"Oh?" I rub my hands together, adding a maniacal chuckle. "I hope it's in your pants."

For a moment my friend just stares at me in surprise and then bursts out laughing. "No, no," he hiccups. "Here." Still laughing, he grasps my hand and slips a ring (he seems to have conjured it from the void) around my ring finger. I can only stare at it in wonder. It's beautiful: a bold golden band adorned with a lovingly cut gemstone, blue as the sky.

"I, uhm..." This is a bit awkward. "Why are you giving me this?"

He sighs sadly. "I was going to propose to Lily, but that's... never going to happen. I would like you to have it. Something to remember me by, that kind of thing." His sad expression quickly changes into a mischievous one. "I stole it from my mother before I was taken to the tower." His tale is so sad. I remember he spoke of it very bitterly when we were younger. As soon as he had started showing signs, his mother began referring to him as it and a demon she didn't want living under her roof any longer. And he was only a little boy of what, five years old? Terrible. I'm glad I don't have such memories.

"Then, thank you. It's lovely. But you know I don't need any keepsake to remember you." My knees nearly buckle under memories of the naughty things we did together. "I-I mean, you've been my friend for as long as I can remember."

My expression must betray my true thoughts, because through the bars his arms snake around my waist and he says: "Our friendship's not what you're thinking of, is it?" His voice is low and husky, not the high-pitched notes I'm so used to. "Get in here and I'll give you something you can really remember me by."

Well now, what am I to say to that? Nothing, that's what. I yank the door open and almost _fly_ into the cell, into my beloved friend's waiting arms. He kisses me hungrily, tongue plunging into my mouth and eagerly entwining with my own. His hands seem to be all over me, but I just concentrate on unlacing his trousers and sticking my hand into them to play with his already hard cock. Oh, how I wish I had one of these I could use every day. I would be _sooo_ happy...

Jowan gets my rather unsubtle hint and hikes my robes up to my waist, pulls down my panties and promptly slips two fingers into me. Before long he pulls them out and interrupts the kiss to inspect them. "You're so wet," he whispers, clearly impressed. I bet I could impress him more. So I grab his wrist with my free hand and slowly lap up my juices from his fingers. Watch those eyes grow into the size of saucers.

"Please, Jowse, please," I pant into his ear. "Fuck me, now. Don't make me wait." I punctuate my every word with a stroke of my hand. Staring into his eyes, I see they're glazed over with desire. Mine must be much the same.

"Get on your knees," he orders me, his voice all rough and hoarse. My, my, how very promising. I obediently kneel before him and watch him reveal his erection, the tip shiny with... that stuff that comes out before ejaculation, I forget what it's called. He grabs his cock at the base and taps it against my lips. "You know what to do."

Oh, teasing me, are we? Two can play that game. First I delicately lick the tip, once. Then a little kiss. I open my mouth and close my lips around the first few inches of him, applying only minor pressure. With a frustrated grunt he grabs me by the back of the head and simply begins thrusting into my mouth. My evil plot to tease him just blew up in my face.

"There's a good girl," he moans, clawing and pulling my hair rather hard. It hurts a little, but Maker, is it arousing. It only makes me want him more. Finally he says: "Good, that will do." With a plopping noise he pulls himself out of my mouth and walks around me. Within seconds his chest is pressed against my back, hands kneading my breasts, teeth nibbling on my earlobe. I can only moan and whimper helplessly. When is he finally going to put that magnificent cock of his in me? "Support yourself on your hands." The hands on my breasts move to my shoulders to push me down. When I feel the tip of his erection between my longing lips, I could just about jump for joy. "Is this what you want?" he asks, every syllable dripping with arousal.

I crane my neck to look back at him. "Yes." My voice is a barely audible, throaty whisper. Oh, to the Fade with this; if he doesn't put it in me soon, I'm going to go stark raving mad. "Please, Jowan, please. I cannot take this any longer. _Please_ fuck me," I beg. "Please, please, please..."

From the corner of my eye I catch him grinning wickedly. "Since you ask so nicely," he drawls. With one hard thrust he is fully buried within me, causing me to throw back my head in pleasure and scream. My screaming becomes even louder when he begins thrusting in me, slowly and deliberately. There's nobody here, why should I bother to keep quiet? I doubt I even could. Maker's breath, but he's hard, stretching me so far it almost hurts. He's made me ridiculously wet; I can clearly feel rivulets of my juices flowing down the insides of my thighs.

His thrusts are maddeningly slow, that splendid friction making me dizzy, clouding my mind. I beg and plead for him to go harder and faster, but he does not respond at all. His arm curving around my hip, his fingers lazily stroking my pulsating bump only add to this sweet torment. Beads of sweat that have formed on my forehead splatter onto the ground as the familiar tension builds in the pit of my stomach, turning my blood into boiling lava.

Only when I come, my muscles clenching around his hard-on, does my lover give in to my constant implorations and begins fucking me _really_ hard and _really_ fast. My pleads turn into long-drawn screams and monosyllables such as "ooh" and "yes", sometimes followed by his name. But I don't leave him unaffected either; babbled phrases tumble from his lips. Sometimes I catch a word I understand, but mostly he just moans and grunts.

And then he bends his upper body over mine to grab my breasts and pinch my nipples through the fabric of my robes, his thrusts becoming shallower but staying just as vehement. From his heavy breathing in my ear I can tell he is enjoying me very much. Good. I crane my neck and manage to lock lips with him, our tongues barely touching. Suddenly his grip on me tightens and he finishes with one last incredibly hard and incredibly deep thrust.

I open my eyes to watch my best friend's face contort into a mask of intense pleasure, moaning into my mouth, throbbing wildly within me, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh. A thing of beauty, that. Might just be my favourite thing to watch.

After a while his grip on me loosens and he gets off me to sit on the floor, his back propped up against the wall. He's panting like an exhausted hound. "Woman," he breathes, "if Arl Eamon doesn't kill me, you just might." A blissful grin appears on his face. Apparently it doesn't seem like such a bad way to die. Bah, I'm leaking. I step out of my panties and use them to clear the seed away. Now I have to put on clean ones again. It's a small price to pay for all the pleasure I received. "Can I have those?" Jowan suddenly pipes up, pointing at the crumpled garment in my hand with sparkling eyes.

"Sure." I toss them in his direction and he snatches them out of the air. "Something to remember me by, eh?"

He briefly sniffs them before making himself decent and stuffing them down his pocket. "Come, give me a hug." He holds his arms out to me, smiling affectionately. I can only return that smile and straddle his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. As he securely folds his arms around my waist, his head resting on my chest, I feel a friendly warmth emanating from him. See? We're still best friends. Who happen to enjoy having it off with one another, that's all. I swear this could just be the best set up _ever_. "I'll miss you, Tori," he mumbles pitifully. "I'm going to be so lonely when you're off fetching Andraste's ashes."

"I'll miss you too." I sigh. "I don't even know if those ruddy ashes still exist."

Jowan looks up. "Well, if they do, you'll be the one to find them," he says confidently. "There is nothing this Grey Warden can't do!" He waves his arms about dramatically.

"Ha, well, I appreciate your confidence in me. Let's hope it is not misplaced." I stroke his hair and briefly hold him tighter before releasing him. "I should go. First we head to Denerim to find this Brother Genitivi, which will no doubt lead us to some Maker-forsaken place in the far ends of Ferelden. So, take care."

He nods. "I'll try. Good luck." His hands cup my face and he presses his lips to mine for a soft, tender kiss. "For luck," he afterwards explains blushingly.

"Thank you. Maker knows I can use it." I stand and walk out of his cell. "Hopefully I'll see you soon."

My friend eyes me miserably from behind the bars. "Yes, until then. Bye."

After a last wave I walk out of the dungeon to pack my things, a slight breeze cooling my heated nether regions.


	69. Return to Redcliffe - A Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana has Astoreth try something new.

### Return to Redcliffe - A Vision

In the hallway I run into our minstrel, who is eating something I've never seen before. "Good morning, Leliana."

"Oh, good morning," she replies cheerfully. "I didn't know you were up already."

"What are you eating?" It appears to be some kind of pastry, golden brown and shaped like a crescent moon.

"Oh, this? This is a croissant. One of the things I miss most from Orlais." She holds the croissant out to me. "Care for a bite?"

It sure looks appetizing. "Yes please." I take a small bite. The outside is crispy, the inside fluffy and light. It tastes of rich, creamy butter. "Wow, that is _delicious_."

"Yes, isn't it? If I may say so, you look so much better. Did you finally manage to get some sleep?" she asks curiously. Yes, that and then some. But surely she doesn't want to know that.

"I sure did. Hey, would you mind doing my hair again? I just can't seem to get it right." I shoot her a pleading look and she utters her lovely melodious laugh.

"Of course, it will be my pleasure." A bright smile curves her lips. "Shall we go into your room?"

"Sure." I open the door for her. "Come in."

Inside I find that the bed has been made with fresh sheets. These servants here really work quickly. I retrieve my comb and the red ribbon from the desk and hand them to Leliana. She gestures for me to sit on the chair before the desk. As she combs my hair and brushes it to the side, the young woman gasps. "Astoreth, what is this rash on your neck?" Her fingers press lightly against my skin. And here are the comments, no doubt. "Have you been a naughty girl?" she asks mischievously.

"No, I think that whatever they use to launder clothes here causes this reaction," I lie light-heartedly.

"Allergies do not cause teeth marks," she sings. So obviously this was a crappy excuse, but thankfully she doesn't prod me any further. Before long her nimble fingers have knotted my hair into that intricate, beautiful braid with the pretty bow at the end. "There, all done."

"Dear Leliana, you are a true artist." I make an exaggerated curtsy from my chair, making the young woman giggle. "Thank you very much."

"It was no trouble at all. Is there anything else you might need?" Her elegant eyebrows are raised quizzically.

"No, thank you so much for making me all pretty and..." Suddenly there is a knock on the door. Alistair. "Come in."

The Warden opens the door and walks in. "Ladies, I think we should get going. We have a lot of ground to cover."

Leliana looks at Alistair and myself in turn and giggles girlishly. "I will leave you two alone." Before she walks out the door, she casts the both of us a naughty, knowing glance.

Alistair's expression is helplessly puzzled. "What was that about?"

"Oh, nothing." I smile sweetly at him. Rawr, isn't he a vision?

His eyes narrow as he smiles. "You look so much better. Did you get a good night's rest?"

"Yes." My mouth stretches into that all too familiar, no doubt dumb-looking grin. "The best."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends this return to Redcliffe.


	70. Denerim - Wet Dogs, Garbage and Complete Bitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes arrive in Denerim, where there are various errands to run.

### Denerim - Wet Dogs, Garbage and Complete Bitches

Here we are, the market square of Denerim. Smells like wet dogs and rotting garbage, but looks colourful and cheery. Hooray! We had better keep a low profile though, seeing how the Grey Wardens aren't too popular at the moment. Courtesy of Teyrn Loghain. Fucker. The trip here from Redcliffe was really ridiculously long, but otherwise uneventful. You know, apart from the odd band of darkspawn. And the assassins. This time there were only five or so of them and after questioning their leader, it turned out they were after 'the little redhead'. Some woman named Marjolaine had sent them to kill her.

Leliana immediately broke down crying and the entire story of her life in Orlais spilled from her in one long waterfall of words. She'd been a bard, a spy in the employ of nobles, a master of intrigue, an artist with... Well, you get the idea. Marjolaine had been the one to teach her the trade and eventually betrayed her by accusing her of selling governmental secrets to other nations. Our poor bard was tortured and punished, but managed to escape to Lothering and joined the Chantry there. I promised her we would go _talk_ to Marjolaine, here in Denerim. Talk, sure. This can only end in death.

Alistair hasn't been his usual talkative self lately. I imagine it's because he's nervous to meet his sister. When we were stuck in the sloth demon's domain, he dreamt that Goldanna had welcomed him with open arms and they were leading this cosy family life, complete with afternoon tea and mince pies. I hope his dream comes true, really, but odds are it won't. I hope the poor boy won't take it too hard if that is the case.

First off though, we'll be heading to this Brother Genitivi's house. Bann Teagan was kind enough to provide us with a detailed map of Denerim, on which Lady Isolde had marked the spot. It's close. Look at that, so many stalls with various goods. I'm going to do some mad shopping if I get the chance to.

~*|'-'|*~

Is this the Maker's idea of a joke, or something? Blood and guts. At Genitivi's house his assistant, I think, said that his master had gone to the Spoiled Princess Inn. When I went into the Brother's bedroom (rude, I know, but we adventurers cannot control the urge to just barge into places) to find more clues, maybe a journal or something, I found a corpse there. Of the assistant. Upon which his imposter promptly attacked us and got killed. I'd have just fled if I were him; we outnumbered him by far. Turns out the wretch was lying too; in the bedroom I found a map that marked the village of Haven as the Urn's possible location. And lo and behold, Haven is pretty damned close to Redcliffe. Had we but known. And now, to speak with that Marjolaine character.

~*|'-'|*~

As I suspected, our little talk with Marjolaine could only have ended in death. _Her_ death, mind you, not of any of us. The woman was paranoid, convinced that Leliana had been plotting against her in the Chantry to avenge her betrayal. Idiocy. Leliana was inclined to let the woman go, but I convinced her not to. She would never have left her alone, no doubt popping up when least convenient.

So we killed her and her lackeys, and that was that. Leliana became very quiet and pensive afterwards, so very different from the chatter I am used from her. She would spend hours fawning over fashion in Orlais, complaining of how in Ferelden we don't wear pretty high-heeled shoes or eat fancy things like croissants. What would you expect? We're adventurers, not nobles.

When we found an inn to spend the night in (understandably we are all weary of travel for the time being), she decided to remain there and have some time to herself. I offered to stay with her, but she insisted I enjoy the sights and go shopping, or something. I take it she needs to be alone and think things over.

~*|'-'|*~

We have all scattered about the place for exploration (Zevran said something about visiting a brothel; no surprise there), Alistair and myself looking for his sister's house. Stubbs is following us closely.

"That's... my sister's house," he suddenly says in a shaky voice. His eyes scan the surroundings. "I'm almost sure of it... Yes, this is the right address. She could be inside." He eyes me nervously. "Could we... go and see?" He sounds so small and insecure. Poor thing.

I grab a hold of his hand and squeeze. "Of course. Whenever you're ready."

"Will she know who I am? Does she even know I exist? My sister. That sounds very strange." He continues pronouncing the word 'sister' in different intonations and voices. "Now I'm babbling. Let's just go." Almost bouncing with nerves he opens the door and yanks me through. The house is rather small, and... squalid. Goldanna isn't living in the lap of luxury. "Hello?" Alistair shouts.

A tall, thin woman with reddish hair emerges from a back room. "Eh? You have linens to wash?" she asks coarsely. "I charge..."

"No, I'm not here to have any wash done," Alistair cuts her off in obvious nervousness. "My name is Alistair. This may sound strange, but..." He clears his throat. "Are you Goldanna? If so, I suppose I'm your brother." Ow, ow! His hand is clutching mine so tightly I fear he might squish it into a pulp.

"My what?" the woman replies incredulously. "I am Goldanna, yes. How do you know my name? What tomfoolery are you folk up to?" She cocks her head to the side, regarding her brother with wary eyes. I don't think my mabari likes this woman; from his posture I can tell he's nervous. And then there's the low growling, of course.

"Look, our mother..." Poor Alistair is getting more and more nervous with every passing moment. He even seems to be shrinking. "She worked as a servant in Redcliffe Castle a long time ago..."

"You! I knew it!" Goldanna cries out. "Them's at the castle told me the babe was dead along with Mother, but I knew they was lying! I told them the babe was the king's; they gave me a coin to shut my mouth and sent me on my way. I knew it!" Her voice sounds almost triumphant. Hooray for being right, I guess.

My friend's face has turned very, very sad. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. The babe didn't die; I'm him. I'm... your brother." He eyes her expectantly, his grip on my hand so strong my bones might snap at any given moment. I don't want to ruin the moment though, so all I can do is put on a painful face.

Goldanna's triumphant expression turns to a scowl. "For all the good it does me!" she scoffs. "You killed Mother, you did, and I've had to scrape by all this time?" She continues grumbling with her arms folded before her chest.

"Now that's hardly his fault, is it?" I can't help but butt in; Alistair doesn't deserve this kind of treatment. The woman doesn't even know him. In the meantime Stubbs' growling has become louder as well. Boy, is he a good judge of character.

"And who in the Maker's name are you?" Her angry gaze shifts to me. "Some tart, following after his riches, I expect?"

For a moment I stare at the woman. Torn between feeling offended at "tart" and being amused at "riches", I choose to just burst out laughing. " _Riches_? What riches?"

"Hey! Don't speak to her that way!" Alistair is quick to jump to my defence. "She's my friend, and a Grey Warden! Just like me!"

"Oh, I see," she drawls, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "A prince and a Grey Warden too. Well, who am I to think poorly of someone so high and mighty? I don't know you, boy. Your royal father forced himself on my mother and took her away from me! I've got five mouths to feed and unless you can help with that, I've got less than no use for you." Her words are mean and biting, turning her poor little brother into a quivering pile of misery. I can see he's close to tears.

"It would seem she's only interested in your money," I quietly tell my despondent friend.

He sighs. "So it would seem. Let's go." He turns and opens the door. I quickly give Goldanna the finger before exiting, making her gasp indignantly. My hound gives her an angry bark. Bitter, bitter woman. "Well, that was... not what I expected, to put it lightly." Alistair looks about as miserable as he did after Duncan's death. "That gold-digging harridan is my sister? I can't believe it." There's not much I can say. Another illusion crushed, another dream shattered. All I can do is hold his hands and look at him sympathetically. My hand bloody hurts, but it's nothing I can't handle. He sadly shakes his head. "I... I guess I was expecting her to accept me without question. Isn't that what family is supposed to do? I feel like a complete idiot."

" _She's_ the idiot. You're a great guy, Alistair, and if she doesn't want to find that out for herself, then that's her loss." I release his hands to begin softly stroking his face. "Look, you should learn that everyone is out for themselves. Especially people like Goldanna, who live tough lives and really don't have that much of a choice."

"I suppose. Let's just go. I don't want to talk about this anymore," he says bitterly, staring at his feet.

"Come then, my friend, and let me buy you a drink." I link my arm with his and he languidly allows me to drag him to the tavern I spotted earlier.


	71. Denerim - Drown Your Sorrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth treats Alistair to a well-deserved drink, then helps him get to bed.

### Denerim - Drown Your Sorrows

Five tankards of ale (Alistair) and three glasses of water (me) later, the poor guy is pretty deep in his cups. I shouldn't ingest alcohol for obvious reasons, but there's no reason for him not to drink away his sorrows. Not that it solves anything, mind you, but there's nothing to help distract you from your troubles like a night of drinking followed by a morning of puking and throbbing headaches.

"Astoreth," he jabbers, "I can always count on you!" His hand is resting rather intimately on my uncovered thigh, his head on the tabletop. "You were there when Duncan died, and you never made any smart comments about my father..."

"I'm here for you, for as long as I can be anyway." I take another sip of water. Sadly there was no milk to be had here.

He raises his head, looking a bit puzzled. "Huh? Whaddyamean?"

"We live dangerous lives, you know. I might just keel over and die at any moment." Oddly enough, I'm at peace with this fact. I could've been dead a long time ago, when I was caught trying to help Lily and Jowan escape.

Alistair gasps. "Nooo! Don't die!" Suddenly very emotional, he sniffles with suspiciously gleaming eyes. "What would I do without you?" he chirps. The corners of his mouth are turned down in a pitiful, but kind of cute expression.

"You'd get stranded somewhere without any pants." I give him a little pat on the head. "That's not the end of the world, is it?"

"But, but!" He sniffles again. "But what about the baby? Poor baby." Suddenly he slides himself off his chair and in an open display of affection begins rubbing his face against my belly. We are becoming quite the spectacle, drawing curious stares from other patrons. Stubbs, who's lying on the floor beside me and chewing on a large bone the barkeep rustled up somehow, seems as puzzled as all the others.

Obviously getting him drunk wasn't a very wise idea. I should've known from that time in Lothering. "Now, now, Alistair, this isn't the kind of behaviour one should exhibit in public. Be a good boy and sit on your chair."

He reluctantly gets up and does as I say. "Sorry," he mumbles all red faced.

"That's all right; you hardly know what you're doing." I encouragingly pat his hand.

And here comes the cavalry. Wynne walks in, beaming and armed with a few brimming bags. Following her closely, but obviously bored out of her mind and dragging her feet, is Morrigan. They wave as soon as they see us, the witch perking up visibly. "Astoreth, please save me from this woman. She is trying to make me wear a dress!" Poor girl sounds desperate. Next to her Alistair sniffles and she turns, her dress-related woes immediately forgotten. "Whatever is the matter with him?" she asks in an amused voice.

"My sister doesn't love me!" the Warden bawls before bursting into tears and grabbing onto Morrigan for dear life. She looks at me wide-eyed, shocked beyond comprehension. Priceless.

"Get this sobbing wretch away from me," she hisses, weakly pushing him away. Alistair pays no heed to her words and continues pressing his face against her side, still crying vehemently. My hound looks at his friend with a sad whine and gets up to rest his head against his leg.

Should I let this go on, or should I help her? Watching this a little longer would be fun. But better that I release her from the boy's clutches before she loses her temper and turns him into a frog, or dust, or frog-dust. I carefully pry his arms away from the witch's waist and she keeps her distance, watching his distress with unveiled interest and glee. Of course he now clutches onto me, but I don't mind. While I stroke his hair and whisper soothing words to him, he gradually calms down. Does this mean I would make a good mother? I hope so.

The elderly mage looks at us, obviously worried. "Will he be all right?" she mouths. I nod. He will be fine eventually. If anything, experiencing this harsh reality will make him stronger. Or mess him up completely. Either way, it will change him.

"Do you think we should be heading to the inn? It's been a long, exhausting day," Wynne says tentatively.

"Yes, that is probably best. What do you say?" I ask Alistair. He nods silently. Morrigan simply shrugs and heads for the door. And so we leave for the inn, with my fellow Warden leaning heavily on Wynne and myself.

~*|'-'|*~

As soon as we arrive, Morrigan cheerfully bids us goodnight and locks herself in her room.

"I understand this has something to do with his sister?" Wynne affectionately ruffles Alistair's hair, giving him a worried look.

"Yes. In short, she said she had no use for him unless he would help her keep her children well-fed."

"My sister is a gold-digger," Alistair sobs sadly.

I pat him firmly on the back. "She doesn't deserve you, my friend."

"Don't leave me," he whimpers. "I don't want to be alone." He firmly wraps his arms around me.

"I'll never leave you alone. Well, not willingly anyway." I kiss his cheek and he seems to calm down. "Well, I will be staying with him, help him in case he needs to vomit, or anything. Goodnight."

"It's good to know he will be in capable hands. Goodnight, dear children." After another worried glance in Alistair's direction, Wynne disappears into her room, Stubbs following her closely. He's taken quite the shine to the old lady, even if she'd once suggested to make his "drab brown" fur purple. Violet, to be more precise. He then ran off with her staff, forcing her to chase him. Wynne is quite fast for someone her age.

It's hard work, but I drag Alistair into the room we'll be occupying tonight. He's not making it any easier for me with his desperate clutching. Finally I manage to lay him down on the bed. Marvellous; his armour needs to come off and he is in no shape to help. My fingers get cramped up from undoing all those straps and buckles and it takes me ages to remove his armour, but eventually I get the job done. I don't think I will be spending many hot nights with a warrior anytime soon, if this is what I have to look forward to every time.

Apparently his stupor has lifted a bit, for Alistair takes off his shirt himself. Oh, my. No matter how worried I am for him, seeing all that muscle gets me a little hot and bothered. Luckily he has the decency to crawl under the covers and remove his pants from there, otherwise I might've taken advantage of his vulnerable state. I'm a terrible person. Just terrible.

I kick off my boots and sit down next to him, on top of the covers. Instead of just falling asleep as I would expect from someone who is so depressed and drunk, he quietly stares at me. "Aren't you going to undress?" he asks eventually.

"No." I shake my head. "I'm probably not going to sleep."

"Why not?" he asks innocently, shuffling a little closer to me.

I clear my throat awkwardly. Suddenly I'm very aware of the fact that there is a handsome, almost naked young man here, covered only by a blanket and some sheets. He is so close I can feel the warmth coming off his body and it's been too long since the last time I got some. Odds are I need some every day, if possible. And he's right here... I don't want to be led into temptation. Actually I don't want to lead _him_ into temptation. This sweet, innocent boy deserves better than the tart following after his riches. Riches. Ha, ha, good one, Goldanna. "Because, you know, I'm worried about you. I have to make sure you'll be all right."

"I'm fine, just a little sad, I suppose. I'd expected her to... Well, never mind." He sighs sadly.

"I know. You expected her to be kind to you, to welcome you with open arms. Maybe a mince pie even, right?" I run my hand through his hair, feeling it tickle.

"Hmm, I had hoped you would've forgotten all about that. That... stupid dream. I can't believe I was foolish enough to believe Goldanna would just accept me," he grumbles.

I utter a long sigh. "You can't keep on beating yourself up over this. We all have our hopes, and now and then they get crushed. I'm sorry, but that is just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes." It's harsh of me, I know, but he needs to pull himself together. We've got all kinds of shit to do, and I need him in the right shape to do them. "Don't be too angry with Goldanna; I mean, we don't know what she's been through. Forget her. There are others who do care about you."

"Like you?" He fails in an effort to smile and reaches up to stroke my cheek with his calloused hand.

I place my hand over his, press my lips to his palm. "Yes, like me."

"Thanks for being here for me." This time he does manage to smile, albeit wanly.

"It's my pleasure." I pat his hand. "Although I'll think twice before letting you have that much ale next time."

Alistair snuggles up to me and buries his face in my chest. "I hope there won't be a next time like this," he mumbles. "Goodnight."

Well, I guess that settles it then. "Sweet dreams, dear." I plant a kiss atop his head and soon his snoring indicates he's sleeping.


	72. Denerim - A Faded Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth runs into somebody she never thought to see again.

### Denerim - A Faded Encounter

My, the market is bustling. Wait, what? The last thing I remember was watching Alistair sleep. I must be sleeping myself, dreaming. I must be in the market square because I would like to do some shopping. Suddenly I feel a hand on my hip pouch, my own closing around the unknown person's wrist of its own accord. My reflexes aren't so bad, it seems. A familiar pair of honey eyes set in a tanned face that could use a shave stare down on me in shock. I raise an eyebrow. Hey, I know this guy! He's wearing normal clothes instead of the leathers I knew him in, but that's him all right."Daveth?"

His look of shock turns into one of horror and forcefully he twists out of my grasp before speeding away as if the archdemon itself is on his heels. But it's not the archdemon who's chasing him, just a Grey Warden mage who'd like to talk to him. No matter how much I yell for him to stop, he won't. Doesn't he recognize me?

From time to time he looks over his shoulder to see if I'm still following and thus runs straight into the arms of a group of similarly clad men, all of them bearing arms. The city garrison? Shouting triumphantly, they immediately shackle the unfortunate thief.

I run up to them, panting like a dog. "Excuse me, gentlemen?" I wheeze.

"Yes, Warden?" one of them asks, politely waiting for me to catch my breath. Now how did he know that? Because this is a dream, no doubt. Nobody's tattooed my forehead with the title in my sleep, did they? It's been a while since I've looked in a mirror.

"What are you going to do with him?" I point at Daveth, who seems to be rather distressed at getting caught. This rings a bell somewhere.

"Well, Warden, this man is wanted for several crimes, so we are going to hang him. Why do you ask?" The guard looks at me quizzically.

As I'm pondering what I should do to free the cutpurse, words form in my mind automatically. "In that case I would like to invoke the Right of Conscription. Please release him." That's it, the Right of Conscription! I could just slap myself. Of course, that was the thing nagging in the back of my mind. Daveth told me how Duncan saved him from the gallows by using it and simultaneously obliging him to join. Is this my mind telling me how I might save Jowan? I wonder how he's doing. Are they feeding him? I hope so. He can't stand to become thinner than he already is.

"The Right of...?" The guardsman spits on the ground and curses wholeheartedly. "Fine. Let him go, men. The Wardens will deal with him."

I can't help but grin triumphantly. "Much obliged." I grab Daveth, who is furiously rubbing his now shackle-free wrists, by the elbow. "Let's go." Before he allows me to pull him along, he makes some rude gestures towards the guardsmen with his fingers. The middle ones. Well, that was easy. Hmm. Okay, well, I have no idea where we're going. I hardly even know Denerim.

"Are you really a Grey Warden? How did you know my name? Where are you taking me?" Daveth rapidly fires questions at me.

"Yes. We've met before. Beats me, I hardly even know this city," I answer the questions in a most similar manner. "Are you staying someplace? If so, I would appreciate it if you took me there so we can talk."

"All right, this way." Firmly grabbing my wrist, he pulls me into a dirty back alley. "I suppose I should thank you for saving my life," he mumbles.

"Wait, don't you remember me? Aren't you a figment of my imagination then?" I look around as we walk and see nothing but dirt and darkness, sometimes a shady-looking person. Odd. I don't recall having seen this in Denerim. Is this even a dream? Well, it must be. Daveth is dead.

"A figment of...? No, I'm quite real, ask those guards if you don't believe me." Suddenly he stops, eyeing me nervously. "Do you see these figments of your imagination running about often?"

I can imagine being alone with a potentially dangerous lunatic would make me nervous too. This is so strange... The people I dream of always eagerly crush any illusion of them being real. And this one doesn't, for some reason. Well, this _is_ the Fade and anything could happen here. "No, no, I'm not insane. But this is a dream, we're in the Fade. Surely a minor character in my own dream should remember me."

"A dream? Right. You're not really convincing me you're not crazy, you know." He tentatively takes a step back, dropping my wrist like a hot potato.

His reaction makes me chuckle. I'm a bit crazy, sure, but I'm not dangerous. Or am I? "You know what, I'll explain everything once we're at your place."

"Fine with me." He shrugs and continues dragging me along. "But don't try anything funny."

We walk in silence, the thief sometimes looking at me over his shoulder, probably to see if I'm up to anything funny. Eventually he gives up, assured I'm not going to kill him in any way. Finally we arrive at a run-down house, but apparently we're not there yet. We climb several stairs to enter a very small attic chamber that has only a bed for a single person and some hooks to, I suppose, hang clothes on.

"Well, sit down, make yourself at home," he says, gesturing toward the bed. I remove my boots and sit down, folding my legs under me. Every movement makes the thing creak loudly. Sleeping in it must be a regular treat. I pat the area next to me, but my companion shakes his head. "Tell me what you want from me."

"I don't want anything from you, I just want to know why I'm here. I mean, in this dream, not in this room. Charming place this is." It's a room made for only two things: sleeping and sex. And apparently hiding from the authorities.

"Why do you insist this is a dream? Crazy woman," he mutters. "And what do you mean, we've met before? I've never seen you in my life. Before I tried to cut your purse, that is."

What _is_ this? If this were my dream, he should know everything I know. Unless this isn't my dream, but his. That would explain his stubbornness and the detailed surroundings. It is said that when people die, their spirits have to cross the Fade before they reach their place beside the Maker. But sometimes these spirits become lost and get stuck in the Fade. And here I thought ghosts were simply made up to scare children and nervous adults. "I'm hurt that you would forget me so easily. Think. Do you remember anything about Duncan saving your life, going to Ostagar?" And here is my trump card, uttered in a low husky voice: "Spending a night in a bedroll with me, in the Korcari Wilds?"

Daveth flashes his teeth in a wide grin. "Sadly, no. I've been to the Wilds a few times as a youngster, but I'm sure I would remember spending a night with a lovely woman such as yourself."

"Well, then." I get up and beckon him. "Come a little closer so that I may refresh your memory."

As soon as he leans in, I fling my arms around his neck and begin kissing him in much the same way he did me. Right before he died. At first he freezes, but soon relaxes and passionately kisses me back, slipping his tongue into my mouth. I hope this will actually make him remember (not that I mind doing it) as this kiss is nowhere near the same as the one we shared before the Joining. It's slow and sensual, not hasty and desperate. When I finally let go of him and look into his eyes, I see a spark of recognition there. He blinks a few times and raises his eyebrows. "Mage girl?" he says softly.

I smile at him. "Ah, there we go. It's me, Astoreth. Do you remember now?"

The confusion on his face turns into anguish as he begins yelling at me for making him remember. Don't I realize how much it hurts to know you're dead, to be stuck in the Fade and finally finding some peace in a dream, even if it's only a dream? He roughly pushes me back, landing me on the bed with a loud creak, and begins pacing around the room. Frantically running his hands through his hair, he rants on about how I have no right to do this, how I should've just left him alone. Never mind the fact that he'd been the one to try and steal from me, not the other way around.

Finally he sighs and slumps down next to me, onto the bed. "I'm sorry. I guess I just had to get that out of my system."

"You're right. I shouldn't have bothered you. If you wish, I could just leave and you can forget everything all over again." I'm such an idiot to interfere in these things. Should've just taken him from those guards and left him alone afterwards.

Daveth offers me a wan smile and lays his hand on my knee. "No, please stay. I missed you."

"Really?" I clamber onto his lap and rest my arms around his shoulders. "I missed you too." It's good to see him again, even if it's only half real. Softly I kiss his lips, since there is nothing holding me back now.

For a moment he's taken aback by my behaviour, staring at me curiously. Eventually his arms wrap around my waist and he smiles, his sadness lifted a little. "Why are you here anyway? And whatever happened to your face?"

"About my face: we were ambushed by assassins and one of them cut me. As for why I'm here... I don't know. Lately I've been racking my brain to think of a way to save a friend, and it just wouldn't come to me. I thought this was simply a dream to remind me of the Right of Conscription." I run my hand through his hair (it's soft, like Cullen's) and smile. "But I guess I was wrong."

He nods slowly, a pensive expression on his face. "I was having these dreams of you, almost every night. I saw you getting hurt in a fight with an ogre." A small smile lights up his face. "I yelled 'Come on, Astoreth, you can do it!,' I did. And then I saw some guy in a fancy outfit hit on you. Even saw you tackle Alistair once. Good one." He chuckles. "Maybe it's my fault you're here."

So all that wasn't my imagination. "Your... _fault_? I don't mind being here. Do _you_ mind me being here?" I ask innocently, running my fingers up and down the back of his neck. My question is pretty much already answered by his hand gliding along my uncovered stocking.

Nuzzling my neck, he says: "Kind of a stupid question, don't you think?" A shudder travels through my body when his lips make contact with my skin. "Are you cold?" he asks in a concerned voice, pulling me closer to his chest.

Naturally I'm not cold. I'm in a tiny room, sitting on the lap of a man I had a hard time keeping my hands off previously. And now I don't even have to restrain myself; I'm free as a bird. Still... "Yes, very cold. I may even need your help warming up," I whisper into his ear.


	73. Denerim - Faded Pleasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, now that she's here...

### Denerim - Faded Pleasures

"I have just the thing." Lips curved in a dazzling smile he produces a flask from his pocket, offers it to me.

What, wasn't I suggestive enough? "That... wasn't exactly what I had in mind." 

"I thought so." He sighs and pockets the flask again. "Why are you so eager? Aren't you spoken for?"

I shake my head. "No, not anymore." The sorrow I initially felt after Cullen leaving me is replaced by worry for his mental condition. Maybe if I get the chance, I'll go back to Kinloch Hold and see how he's doing.

"Oh..." Daveth perks up visibly. "I'm ah, sorry to hear that." His fingers slipping under the edge of my stocking and pulling it down to caress the bare skin of my thigh contradict his words.

I shrug. "It's for the best. It would never have worked out, you know, with him being a templar and me being a mage and all."

"A templar?" He gasps. "I was hoping you were a bad girl, but I had no idea you were _that_ bad..." With a low chuckle he begins placing light kisses along my throat. The feelings I had those two whole days I knew him are coming back in full force. They pretty much revolve around pushing him onto the bed and making it creak madly until the break of dawn. And you know what, I think I might just do that.

Pushing his shoulders down, I say: "How would you like a little demonstration of how bad I am?"

"I would like that a lot." His honey-coloured eyes light up and he kicks off his boots. "I would _love_ it, even." Apparently full of all kinds of expectations, he lies down in the middle of his rather narrow bed.

I straddle his midsection, effectively pinning his arms under my knees. "Do you remember that time behind the tree?" Slowly I undo the buttons on my robes, looking down on my favourite thief's handsome face. My behind is resting on something very familiar and very hard. Today will be the day I find out what he has in his pants, hooray! I'm a poet and I didn't even know it.

"How could I forget?" he whispers, an expression of lust appearing on his features. I slowly rock my hips back and forth over his erection, making him close his eyes and groan. How I love having a man at my mercy like this.

With only half of my buttons undone, I decide it is enough and shrug the garment off my shoulders until it lies crumpled around my waist. The buttons on my bodice soon follow suit to reveal my naked upper body. "I was thinking you might enjoy another show like that."

His eyes fly open and are immediately drawn to my breasts. My nipples harden under his appreciative gaze. "Can't I just touch you instead?" His voice sounds almost desperate and I have only just begun.

"No. You will only lie still and watch me. Understood?" I bend forward slightly and trace the outline of his lips with my finger. Poor thing cranes his neck to catch one of my nipples in my mouth, but I'm keeping my chest just out of his reach. I almost pity him. Almost. "Understood?"

Sighing in defeat, he nods and looks up at me. Desire is burning in his eyes. I slip my arms out of my sleeves and blindly throw away my bodice. Of course I'm well aware of the fact that my breasts jiggle with such movements. It has the desired effect; his breath catches in his throat and he squirms to free his arms. I can feel that his squirming is half-hearted and only pretend. He doesn't really want to be free of me.

By the time I'm done with him, he will want me _so_ badly. Even more than he does already. Now for the teasing... I cup my breasts, lightly squeezing the nipples between my fingers. Even though there's usually not much sensation there, goose bumps form on my skin under his watchful eyes. I throw back my head and moan, relishing the tortured sounds I elicit from the magnificent body lying underneath me.

My right hand slides down my stomach (it's really showing now) and disappears into my panties. My fingers emerge wet and glistening with moisture. I stare into my lover's beautiful eyes, watch him breathe in short gasps. "Ah, look at how wet you make me," I purr, slowly running my tongue along my index finger.

"Please..." He swallows, his voice gravelly with barely contained longing. "Let me taste you."

"Why, certainly. Since you ask so nicely." I smile and slide my fingers into his mouth. He eagerly sucks them clean, eyes closed, an expression of pure delight on his face. I pull my fingers from his mouth with a popping sound and return them to the insisting area between my legs.

"More," he demands feebly. I simply ignore him; he is in no position to demand anything from me. Rubbing up against his hard-on, I continue playing with myself. With my eyes closed, it's as if nothing exists but my fingers and the parts I'm pleasuring, the rock-hard cock throbbing under my bum. I trace lazy circles around my button with my thumb, three fingers moving in and out of me, pressure building deep in my stomach.

"Oh Daveth," I moan. "You're driving me insane without even touching me." I'm so fucking aroused I hardly know what I'm saying; words just fly out of my mouth without a second thought. "I wanted you so badly and I couldn't have you then. But now..." I open my eyes to look at _my_ thief, the corners of my mouth turning up into a smirk. "Now you're mine."

"Sweetheart," he pants, "I've been yours from the moment we met."

That there is enough to send me flying over the edge, to have such power over another. I utter a loud scream as the waves of pleasure come crashing into me, swallowing me up and spitting me out on a coast of perfect bliss and ecstasy. Somewhere far away I hear sounds of appreciation, feel wriggling under me, but I'm still conscious enough to keep him in place.

After a while I return to my senses and see Daveth's face twisted into a mask of lust and torment. He looks as if he's ready to explode. We don't want that to happen, now do we? So I reach back and undo the laces that keep his trousers closed, stroking his erection through the fabric from time to time. A pained groan escapes his throat whenever I touch him, but when my fingers close around his uncovered length, _I_ groan. Finally. He's not the only one I've been torturing.

"Oh, my." I bite my lip in delight. His skin feels velvety soft, the flesh so hard it barely yields as I squeeze into him. What would it look like? I can't wait to wrap my lips around that. Both the upper and lower kind. Raising myself slightly, I push my panties to the side and begin rubbing his tip against my wet, waiting entrance. Butterflies begin fluttering in my tummy in anticipation, but I must resist.

My hands replace my knees as a means of holding him down. Now I hope he will do as I say like a good boy, because with my weak arms there is no way I could hold him down. I lower my upper body so I can kiss him, briefly slipping my tongue into his mouth, and subsequently pull his shirt up with my teeth to trail a path of kisses down his torso, lavishing his beautifully defined abdominal muscles with attention. And here it is, my prize.

His love-spear (dirty metaphors, I adore them) looks... elegant, almost. Quite long, reaching up almost to his navel, but not very thick, a slight curve to the entire thing. It is the same attractive caramel as the rest of his skin, the tip a colour akin to that of a blushing peach. I love peaches.

I lick along his length, eliciting a gasp and a moan from my lover's lips. As I blow my breath over the wet area, his body tenses and he makes a choked up noise that turns into a surprised squeak when I suck him into my mouth. Apparently I need both hands for this; I'm afraid I might hurt him with my teeth if I carry on like this. Sadly I must let go.

"Daveth?" I look up at him.

"Hmmm?" He raises his head to look back at me, stars glittering in his eyes.

"If I let your hands go..." A teasing lick low on his stomach. "...Will you be a good boy? You may touch me, but allow me to continue. Deal?"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of interfering," he moans. "I'll be good. Promise." He lies back with a long sigh.

I release his wrists, but his hands continue to rest idly by his sides. Very good. I wrap my right hand around the base of his cock; it fits perfectly. Slowly my tongue twirls around the tip to lap up the clear liquid that trickles out. I like this taste, so pleasant and savoury. Gradually more and more of him disappears into my mouth. His appreciation for the caresses of my tongue is obvious: his hand has moved to softly caress my cheek, his fingers knotting into my hair, his barely audible voice whispering my name and all kinds of sweet nothings. That is unexpected. I thought he'd be assaulting my fragile little ears with dirty phrases. Now I actually feel sorry for teasing him like this.

I intensify my ministrations, applying more pressure with my mouth and having my hand join the effort. Sucking, licking and stroking seem to yield great results as the hardly perceivable twitch in his wonderful organ first turns into a dull throb and then into a more vehement one. Before long he erupts into my mouth with a series of strangled cries, his entire body as still as a statue.

After neatly licking him clean and swallowing my treat (as I have come to regard the thick, bitter liquid) I climb up for a cuddle, shedding my robes in the process. Daveth is breathing contently, a cross between panting and sighing. His amber eyes are misty with satisfaction as he eagerly takes me into his arms so that I may rest my head against his warm chest, breathe in his musky scent.

"Little vixen," he chuckles. His hands lazily roam across my back, sometimes straying to touch my behind.

"Oh, have I not pleased you?" I look up at him, sticking out my lower lip in a feigned pout.

"You have definitely not," Daveth replies to my shock and horror. "Not pleased me, that is. Get it?" His eyes narrow in laughter, clearly delighted with his little joke.

"Thank the Maker!" I roll my eyes. He had me there. "You almost made me think I was losing my touch."

He slowly shakes his head. "No. And now it's your turn to see what I have in store for _you_ ," he says, playfully tapping the tip of my nose with his finger. His lips meet mine for a sweet, gentle kiss, his arms pulling me close to his body. He feels so warm and real I would almost forget he has been six feet under for quite a long time now. This isn't the time to think of such depressing matters however, as there is so much fun to be had.

Carefully he coaxes me onto my back while his face is buried in my neck. I can faintly hear him sniffing me, inhaling my scent as he plants soft kisses along my collarbone. His fingers are trailing my sides, their touch light as butterfly wings. I shiver when his lips reach my breasts; so gently he covers them with kisses and licks, deftly avoiding the most sensitive area. This sweet frustration is making me so hot and so wet. And when he finally takes my nipple between his lips, I arch my back in surprise and nearly knock him unconscious. In a manner of speaking, of course.

My hips wriggle involuntarily under his tender ministrations, my hands no doubt making a mess of his hair as I enjoy the movements of his hands, his lips, tongue and teeth. A little squeal escapes me the moment my thief begins caressing my swollen lips through my panties with his skilful fingers. I am like putty in his able hands. Suddenly my panties have disappeared (where to, I do not know) and a few of those skilful fingertips slip into me, teasing and prodding. The sensation is divine, but also frustrating.

He doesn't say a word about my delicate condition, although I'm quite sure he sees it. There's not much to say about it anyway. Kisses and caresses are generously bestowed upon my belly before I feel his lips on the inside of my thigh. Time and time again he comes so close to the waiting wetness between my legs; time and time again he avoids it. Just deserts are being served to me.

After an eternity of soft, teasing touches on the insides of my thighs, his mouth joins his fingers in bringing me dizzying pleasure. The tip of his tongue flicks against my button ever so slightly, only once. I promptly push his face deeper into my lap. Evidently he takes this as an encouragement (as he bloody well should), slipping his fingers in deeper, his tongue beginning to lick me in slow strokes. I'm more used to swifter movements, but this... this is intense. Normally I just want to come as soon as possible, however now, I just lie back and indulge in the feeling of slowly and passionately being brought to climax.

The build-up is slow, a scorching heat forming in my every fibre until my legs clench shut around my lover's head and I scream, scream loudly because it feels as if my body is exploding in the most pleasant way possible. Multiple times, even. My orgasm lasts longer than it ever has; I have no control over my legs for a very long time. Finally they fall open and Daveth emerges gasping for air. He wipes my juices from his face and licks them off his hands; it's quite obvious he likes the taste of me.

I watch him take off his shirt; Maker, but he is pleasing to the eye. My eyes are inevitably drawn lower to his fantastic tool. It's funny how it occasionally appears to be making jerking motions on its own. He turns up the sheets and gestures me to get under them, an infinitely happy expression on his face. In mere moments he's here too, his lean body devoid of any article of clothing as he nestles up to me. "Are you comfy?" he whispers into my ear, his voice marked with great tenderness. I had never thought he would be such a sweet and considerate lover.

"Very," I whisper back. "But you would make me so happy if you'd just start... well, you know." Awkward. I'm inclined to use very, very bad words but they seem so inappropriate here.

A low chuckle emerges from his throat. "Well, if that is what my lady desires, then that is what my lady shall have." Our mouths join in a long, vigorous kiss and he positions himself between my legs. I moan when he places the tip of his erection between my lips. "Are you ready for me?" Daveth gazes down upon my face, his hazel eyes sparkling. It's cute how he treats me as if I'm a blushing maiden experiencing her first time with a man.

Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, I breathe: "I swear, if you don't enter me _right now_ , I will cry blue murder."

He is buried deep inside of me instantly, sliding in to form a perfect fit. My legs wrap around him of their own accord, pushing him in just a bit deeper. I close my eyes as he thrusts into me, slowly, gently, lovingly almost. All the while he is making love to me I feel his eyes on me, no doubt watching my lips part to let out my moans and gasps. Judging from the sounds that come out of him, he is enjoying the delighted expression my face must be twisted into.

I open my eyes far enough to look at him. His handsome face is flushed, beads of sweat formed on his forehead, some of them trickling down. Irresistible. I cup the back of his head, bring his face closer to mine. "Kiss me," I whisper.

A warm smile breaks through the concentrated look on his features. "I'll do whatever you want, sweetie," he murmurs and leans in for another kiss. My heart tightens unexpectedly. Cullen. He would treat me in such a way. Most of the time. I feel a tear escaping my eye. Damn it, I thought I was done with this. No, I won't let it affect me. Despite my best efforts, Daveth notices something is off and breaks our kiss, slows his thrusting. "What is the matter?" He frowns with concern.

"Nothing." I shake my head. "Just an unpleasant memory, is all."

His hand tenderly stroking my cheek brings me great comfort. "Should I stop?" he asks, rather surprisingly.

"What?" I cast him an incredulous glance. "Of course not. Please continue." The pleading look in my eyes must have won him over, for he continues pumping into me with renewed vigour. Every thrust sends a jolt of pleasure into my underbelly, makes me moan and utter his name and words of praise. My thief isn't exactly quiet either, groaning softly, whispering so many different terms of endearment I've lost track of them. So, so sweet.

"Can... can we change the position?" he suddenly asks in a small voice. "I can't keep up for long like this." He grins apologetically.

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

His body leaving mine makes me feel empty somehow; I hope he hurries up. "On your side," he instructs, promptly laying down behind me and pulling me close as I do so. Carefully he re-enters me and places my leg over his. I wonder why? Oh. _Oh my_. His arms wrap around me, one hand rolling a nipple between the fingers and the other hand fondling my swollen bump while his cock smoothly slides in and out of me. My mind goes all fuzzy with the onslaught of bliss on my senses.

"I want to please you," he affectionately mumbles into my ear. And please me he does. His nimble fingers combined with his marvellous erection make me come hard and fast, make me scream and shiver in ecstasy. But wait, there is more! For a moment his fingers slow down and then continue to make me come all over again, and over, and over, and over, never breaking the pumping rhythm of his hips. I can only lie there, limp as a ragdoll after an orgasm, tense as a bow string during one.

After what seems like an eternity spent in an orgasmic stupor (I highly recommend it), a familiar throbbing announces my lover's climax. His fingers busily rub me to my last one, so our cries mingle into a climactic duet, bodies pressed close to one another. When the tremors through my body have ceased, I open my eyes to find a blurry mess.

"Help me," I croak. "I think my brain has melted."

"Hmmm." Behind me Daveth sounds very content. "Poor baby," he drawls.

I roll over and face him. "So how did you get here?"

"Well..." I have to wait for my answer because he first raises his hands above his head for a long, comfortable-looking stretch. He reminds me a bit of a cat. Back at the tower we had one walking around; it was very good at catching mice. If I recall correctly, it was called Mister Wiggums. Stupid name, but somebody called it that anyway, and the name stuck. "Excuse me. I wound up in this blurry wasteland after I'd died, you know? I kept wandering, hiding from whatever else I ran into. At some point I began wishing that I'd never cut Duncan's purse, that he'd never conscripted me." He sighs, a sudden flash of pain in his eyes at the memory. "Eventually I woke up here, in my own bed no less. I knew it wasn't real, but I convinced myself it was. Been plying my old trade ever since."

I reach over to caress his face, making his eyes light up instantly. He must like me a lot if I have such an effect on him. "You could leave if you wanted to."

Suddenly the room around us is gone, nothing but the bare Fade landscape all around now. His form seems less substantial too. "It's time. I was just waiting for my last wish to be fulfilled," Daveth says with a smile.

"Uh, did it have anything to do with me, perchance?" My clothes are back on, the bed gone from under us. Well, at least the constant creaking is gone.

He chuckles, becoming less and less visible. "Sure did. I wanted you. From the moment we met, and even more when you brought yourself off lying in my bedroll." His translucent fingers cup my chin to press his lips to mine. They feel like no more than a warm breeze on my skin.

"I... You were awake the whole time?" Blood immediately rushes to my face.

"Of course I was. Did you really think I could fall asleep with a half-naked, beautiful woman pressed up against me?" The transparent figure laughs heartily. "Anyway, you've made this lowlife criminal very happy. Goodbye, my lovely." After blowing me one last kiss he dissipates until there is nothing left.

All this time I've been staring at him with my mouth open, unable to form any words. Goodbye, you silly, lecherous thief. I'll never forget you. Is this real, though? Isn't it just my crazy mind making me out to be much more important than I actually am? I suppose I will never know for sure.

"By the way," a disembodied, mischievous voice suddenly interrupts my thoughts. "I _was_ spying on you behind the tree that time. Goodbye!" His laughter slowly fades away.

I shake my head and laugh. Cheeky bastard.


	74. Denerim - Revelations and Unmentionables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan drops a bomb on Astoreth; our heroine decides to go shopping.

### Denerim - Revelations and Unmentionables

Someone is tugging at my shoulder, a female voice calling my name. Slowly I return to my senses, becoming more and more aware of my surroundings. A warm body is hugged close to my chest. "Astoreth, wake up!"

I groan and crack my eyes open. "What do you want, Morrigan? It's far too early for suggestive remarks about Alistair and me."

"That is not what I am here for. Do you want to know what I found out from Mother's grimoire?" The witch eyes me seriously, her elegant eyebrows knotted together.

I sit up a bit and yawn. Alistair is still sleeping with his arms clutched around me. "Do tell."

And just like that, moments after I've awoken, Morrigan drops a bomb on me. Apparently Flemeth is able to live for such a long time by occupying the bodies of her daughters, which explains why there are legends of many Witches of the Wilds, but Morrigan has never seen any of her sisters. So now she wants me to kill her mother, before she possesses her daughter's shapely body. Seeing how valuable Morrigan is to me, I probably will do it. I imagine having an ancient hag living in your skin is no picnic.

"Fine, I will do it, but not immediately. All right?"

The beautiful young woman nods, her fears slightly assuaged. "You have my thanks." She looks curiously at Alistair's head resting on my bosom. "Truly Astoreth, what do you see in this boy?"

"Are you kidding? Look at him." I slowly stroke his cheek. Even with his mouth half-open and snoring, he is a vision. Somewhat.

"He is salivating!" Morrigan points and laughs at my sleeping friend. "'Tis most unattractive."

"Yes, yes, I know. But look past that. And look at him with only your eyes, not your mind. Don't you just want to eat him up?" Under my touch, the Warden grumbles sleepily and hugs me even tighter.

"Certainly, but I would boil him first," the witch retorts dryly. "Trying to eat him as is would be too difficult."

I can see it now: Alistair in a huge cooking pot, trying to struggle his way out and Morrigan pushing his head down with an enormous wooden spoon, cackling maniacally. I can't help but burst out laughing. My reaction seems to delight her. "You know what I mean. And he's a virgin too. Imagine, a beautiful male specimen to mould into your every desire, rawr!" I wiggle my eyebrows, making Morrigan chuckle in amusement.

"I shall leave that to you." With a nod she walks out the door, leaving my sleeping friend and me all by ourselves. It would be so easy to just slip my hand into his smallclothes and feel him. But no, I shouldn't, no matter how much my body needs a bit of love right now. Damn you Daveth! Or, Daveth-impersonating figment of my wild imagination.

"No moulding you to my every desire today, I guess," I tell Alistair. He looks delicious. Although the smell of stale ale isn't all too appealing.

Much to my shock and horror, he laughs. "That's too bad." He sounds very much awake.

Oh crap, oh crap. He heard me. I'm going into ignore mode now. "How are you feeling?" Well, that was embarrassing. But I'm not going to let it show how much so. Too bad my red cheeks will give me away.

His arms release my waist. "I feel all right," he groans while stretching. "Goldanna can take her money-grubbing attitude and stick it where the sun doesn't shine."

"Well, that's a switch. I'm glad you're feeling okay though." He'll be much more useful in our search for those ruddy ashes. Why, Maker, why must we always perform such... seemingly impossible tasks? Frankly it's rather ridiculous. As if we're part of an adventure tale, or some such.

The Warden's handsome face breaks into a cheeky grin. "Well, hearing how a woman thinks you're a beautiful male specimen and wants to eat you up will make any man feel good about himself."

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?" I sigh. Astoreth, you are the biggest boob in all of Fereldan history.

Alistair's grin turns wider. "Nope. Never. You like me, you like me," he sings. Subsequently he jumps out of bed and begins dancing about the room in his smallclothes, singing his vexing song all the while. "You like me, you like me..."

He must be doing this on purpose. Sweet mercy, that gorgeous body of his! The way those muscles flex, hmmm... I'm itching to rip that last bit of clothing away from him. I swear he is only a few inches away from being violently raped. Although I'm not even sure he would mind. Would it be considered rape, then? I guess not. Annoying little bastard. His singing is doing wonders in bringing down my libido. When is he going to stop? Fine, that's it. I'm done with this.

"Not anymore I don't!" I storm out of the room before anything bad might happen (like his facial hair suddenly being on fire), slamming the door shut behind me. Stupid song, stupid Alistair being awake, stupid Morrigan asking her stupid question. I'm going shopping, damn it.

~*|'-'|*~

This dark-haired lady in the market square sells the most exquisite smelling scents my nose has ever perceived. And very colourful fabrics, but I don't give a crap about stuff like that.

"Excuse me, miss, is there something you would recommend when you..." Feel like ripping someone's heart out and feeding it to them. "Need to relax?"

"Perhaps lavender; it is very soothing," the vendor replies in a lovely lilting accent. Orlesian, like Leliana. She holds out a small vial to me, so that I may sniff the contents. It smells all right, but somehow it reminds me of old ladies."You may put a few drops into a hot bath, or on your pillow."

"Do you have something that's also soothing, but with a different smell?" No old lady smell for me, thanks.

The merchant laughs. "Ah yes, not everybody likes lavender." She comes up with another vial. "How about this special blend of vanilla and lemon?"

Another sniff, and I'm hooked. The scent is comforting and refreshing at the same time. "Oh, I'll take this one. How much is it?" I stick my hand down my pouch to find my coin purse. There is enough in here to buy myself a mansion, in a manner of speaking. If more cash comes our way, I may not be able to walk upright anymore. Ah, and I still have that dagger. I should buy a sheath for it.

The young woman smiles radiantly. "Five silvers, my lady." When I hand her the five and a little extra for her advice, she thanks me abundantly. Maybe Denerim isn't the best place to sell these luxury goods. Speaking of luxury goods, I still need something to support my bust when I've become too big for my bodice.

"Do you happen to carry undergarments?"

"But of course!" the woman says cheerfully. She reaches under her stall to reveal a display of frivolous, lacy unmentionables. "I keep them there because these silly urchins sometimes run off with them." She rolls her eyes. "Very annoying."

Finally I spy something that's not flimsy and unsupportive: a sturdy black brassiere, made from smooth fabric. Probably silk or satin. The only decoration is a bow between the cups. "I like this one. How much?"

"This is a well-made specimen, meant to support rather than adorn. Which is why the price is a bit higher: fifty silvers, my lady." The merchant looks at me nervously.

Fifty silvers? My robes cost less than that; I knew they were underpriced. "I'd like two, is that possible?"

"Certainly!" She claps her hands together and dives under her stall again, emerging with an identical brassiere. "Would my lady also like a matching _culotte_? What is the word... Panties?" The young woman holds them up: the same black fabric, but with lace inserts at the sides. Frivolous, but still functional. I like them.

"Sure, why not?" Let's live a little. How often do I get to buy pretty underwear? "Five pairs." One can never have too many panties.

The merchant makes a quick calculation, tells me the price; I pay her and she helps me put everything in my pack. "You have been my best customer yet," the lady beams. "I will give you one free pair," she throws the knickers in with the rest, "and something special." A lovely scarf is picked out for me, the red fabric shimmering with delicate golden flecks. What do you know, I think I do care about fabrics. "Next time you are in Denerim, come see Liselle again." Lovely name. Liselle smiles and puts the carefully folded scarf in my pack as well. We part after having thanked each other thoroughly. Get your mind out of the gutter; I know how it sounds. There was no nudity involved.

Quite close to the perfume seller, a dwarf is loudly praising his wares. From Orzammar, he yells. I try out several sheaths for daggers, but only one fits my blade. Sadly it is also the most expensive one, but hey, it beats having the thing cut a hole into my pouch and making me lose all my stuff. So I pay the merchant and there it goes, on my belt. The dwarf nods contently and says it suits me. Apparently I look like the dagger-wielding type.

"Ah, there you are," Alistair triumphantly says behind me. Oh no, not this crap again. Can't he just leave me alone? I turn to give him a piece of my mind, but I have even opened my bloody mouth, he says: "Hey, you're wearing that dagger. Looking dangerous."

I place my hands on my hips. "Is there something you want, Alistair?"

"Yes, I want you to not be mad at me." He shows me the adorable puppy eyes he knows I can't resist. Stupid Warden knows me all too well. "I brought you something too. Please forgive me." A paper bag is pushed into my hands. Upon opening it, a chocolate muffin comes out. Ooh, chocolate!

"Fine, I'll forgive you," I say with my mouth full of chocolaty goodness. "Now let's go. No doubt there is some danger-infested dungeon waiting to kill us." I begin walking in the direction of the inn. After a little while spent in silence, Alistair's hand grabs mine. Swallows it, more like.

"I'm sorry I acted like an idiot back there. It's not every day a pretty girl pays me a compliment, so I got a bit carried away." His voice sounds small and sad. Poor thing. I overreacted, clearly. His singing and dancing weren't so bad. And he thinks I'm pretty, that's a good thing.

I give his hand a squeeze. "No, _I'm_ sorry. Normally I wouldn't be affected by such silly ribbing, but I suppose I'm having these mood swings, like Morrigan said I would. Don't be sad, okay?"

"Thank the Maker." His strong arms scoop me up into a hug. "You're my best friend and I'd hate to lose you."

Aw, isn't that just the sweetest? "Don't you worry about that. You couldn't lose me even if you tried very hard."

"Good." He carefully puts me down and levels his face with mine. Forget about the dagger hanging off my hip, _this_ is dangerous. For one agonizing moment it's as if he is thinking of kissing me square on the mouth (if he does I'm going to ravish him right here in the streets of Denerim), but thankfully his lips touch my cheek instead. Disaster averted. Smiling happily, Alistair continues to drag me along to the inn, where the others are probably waiting anxiously for our return. And no doubt speculating on what we were doing. Bunch of gossipy _women_. Especially the men.


	75. Haven - The Ruined Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love the quest for the Sacred Ashes? I don't. Not at all.

### Haven - The Ruined Temple

Ah, Haven is ever so lovely with all the suspicion they harbour toward anyone not from their village. But I guess that suspicion serves a purpose, as we came across corpses that used to be Arl Eamon's knights and were subsequently attacked by the entire village. I guess they are part of some strange cult. It would seem that we are on the right track to finding those Ashes. Sten questioned my decision to come here, saying we should just go ahead and attack the archdemon. Sure, there are so many of us, it should be no problem. He seemed to understand though that we also need to stop Loghain, and for that we need the arl to get better. Sometimes I wonder why the Qunari is still with me. I sure as shit don't care if he leaves. The man is useful, but I'm sure we would do fine without him. The complaining he sometimes subtly does about me bugs me; he can get bent for all I care.

And now it turns out they don't have revered mothers here in Haven, but revered _fathers_. Alistair made some joke about the mother superior from his Chantry, how her head would blow up if she knew this. I would like to see such an occurrence. Brains flying about the place, should be awesome.

Brother Genitivi was hidden in a secret room, his leg busted. The maniac was so enthusiastic about finding the Urn of Sacred Ashes that he _demanded_ we bring him to the temple they were supposed to be stored in. I got Sten to carry him, ha. I absolutely love how this temple is out in the mountains, covered with snow. And hard, bitter coldness. I bloody knew we would be trekking through snow at some point. _Knew it._

"M-Maker, it's f-f-f..." My teeth are chattering so furiously I can hardly speak.

"Freezing?" Alistair offers.

"N-no... Well, let's ju-just leave it at th-that." I was going to say fucking cold, but freezing is essentially the same. And I'm getting a bit sick of Wynne lecturing me whenever I use a "bad word". I'm over twenty, damn it. Not only do I know the f-word, I have plenty of experience with the act that it stands for. Bah humbug.

I look jealously at Morrigan, who has transformed into a bear. She must be toasty warm with a fur coat like that. The scarf I got in Denerim is pretty, but doesn't help against the cold at all. I don't think bears can actually manage it, but I could swear the witch is smirking at my constant shivers and chattering teeth. Bitch. But then Alistair wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer, making me feel a little less cold. He feels warm, even in all the snow. How is that possible? Why doesn't Zevran seem to be bothered by this temperature? His legs are partially bare, for crying out loud. Mine are just about to fall off altogether.

Finally we arrive at the temple, an imposing building that has become somewhat of a ruin over the ages. If Andraste's ashes are in here, it must be an old place. The woman was burned, I don't even know how long ago. Should have paid more attention in that class. Brother Genitivi does something with this key that we took off the body of Haven's revered father and the door opens. It's like a gaping maw into the heart of darkness. I wonder what we will find here. I'm willing to bet my boots it's danger of some kind.

~*|'-'|*~

Wow, this place is terrible. Not only is it really, really cold and I've tripped over a whole bloody lot of loose stones, it is also infested with insane cultists and local wildlife. Which consists of dragons (most of them still young) and strange demons that have their bodies studded with teeth. Yes, teeth. "But Astoreth, aren't they just spikes?" one might ask. Trust me, I know spikes when I see them and these aren't spikes. They are teeth! Sharp teeth, that hurt when they bite you.

Anyway, the scholar called these demons ash wraiths. People are burned in holy pyres or something and turn into these freaks. Apparently they protect the temple. I just told Genitivi to go home; I know he's going to take a long time with that messed up leg, but it must be safer than this cultist infested place. The poor man is in absolutely no shape at all to defend himself.

So now we are in some network of icy caverns. Many a cultist jumped us here, trying to kill us. Oh, look here. Cultists that do not immediately try to rip our heads off. We should go see what they want! I bet it's something along the lines of "kill us an Old God" or "get us the pot of gold that stands at the end of the rainbow". Not that I'm considering helping these maniacs, even if they just want me to recite a few verses of the Chant and reward me with my very own tropical island.

~*|'-'|*~

Well then. The cult leader called Kolgrim and his cheery friends believed that Andraste had been reborn as a dragon that lives on the mountaintop. Why would anyone believe that? These people are seriously messed up in the head.

And then he suggested we taint the Ashes with said dragon's blood, because they are guarded and they cannot do it themselves. I'm not that religious, but I'm not going to bloody taint the ashes of Andraste herself. I mean, come on. Kolgrim? Every letter of that says _evil_. Heh, when I said we wouldn't do it, he moved to draw his sword but I was quicker with my dagger and stabbed him in the throat. Instantly dead. It's odd how I have absolutely no qualms at all when it comes to killing a person. He had it coming to him and I had the opportunity. So why not? Guess I'm getting tougher.

You know, I don't get it. Why would you wear plate armour all over and not protect your throat, or wear a damned helmet? That is just plain old vanilla flavour stupid. The idiot had a horn in his pocket. I don't know what it does. I blew it a couple times, but nothing happened. Well, it said "toot".

~*|'-'|*~

So now we are outside, on the top of the mountain. There's the dragon up there, a high dragon. I read that they are very rare and make huge caverns for themselves, so they can store their harems of males. They don't do much besides sleeping and mating. Well now, that truly sounds like paradise to me. Anyway, maybe that horn will do something now. Oh, goody. The horn summons the dragon, and it is angry. I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die...


	76. Haven - Crispy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This entire section of the game just blows.

### Haven - Crispy

Although I feel a little crispy around the edges, I am still very much alive. The dragon was very difficult to take down, even with Alistair, Sten and Stubbs whaling away at it, Leliana and Zevran shooting it and Morrigan, Wynne and myself casting spells and healing. Poor Stubbs got burned quite badly and although I managed to heal him and take the pain away, he will always have a bald spot on his back. Alistair got stomped on by "Andraste" and was wounded severely, but Wynne's healing magic is really good. He's almost as good as new now.

And Sten, well, hardly a scratch on him. How does he do it? For someone so large, he is awfully quick. Somehow he was able to dodge every move the dragon could throw at him, while Alistair was stuck under its paw. Poor thing. I hate dragon's breath. Not because it stinks, but because it's _fire_. At some point the creature flew up and began spouting flames everywhere. The end of my braid caught on fire, and my sleeve. Now I have to cut my hair, damn it. Stupid dragon.

Eventually it was Morrigan who saved the day; she turned into a bear and mauled the dragon's soft underbelly until its guts came spilling out. Afterwards she complained about all the blood and gore she had on her. She whines a lot, but I still appreciate the things she does.

Somehow I know we are coming close to the Ashes. If only because the guardian the cultists were speaking of is standing before me. He must've been here a while. The guardian politely bids us welcome. He'll probably not guide us straight to the Ashes. Yes, what did I say? Apparently there is some test that should prove we are worthy enough. "Before you go, there is something I must ask." The man with the echoing voice looks me up and down. "I see that the path that led you here has not been easy. There is suffering in your past - your suffering, and the suffering of others. Jowan was discovered by the templars. You were helping him. Tell me, do you think you failed Jowan?"

My blood freezes in my veins. How does he know this? _How_? That is just scary. But if I look deep into my heart, I suppose yes, I do think I failed him. He and Lily were counting on me, and I let them down. It's as simple as that. "Yes. I could have done more."

The guardian thanks me for my response and begins asking questions of the others. I'm not going to listen; if my question was so personal, so must theirs be. Ah, I should tell my buddy I'm sorry the next time I see him. I mean, didn't I tell him he ruined my life? But it's not as if he has had it easy. I'm such a selfish wench.

Eventually the guardian says: "The way is open. Good luck, and may you find what you seek."

Yes, may we indeed.

~*|'-'|*~

Finally we stand before the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Leliana is so excited she is almost bouncing. What a test it was to get here. First riddles that had something to do with Andraste's past (thankfully I love riddles), then a spirit who looked just like Jowan. It had an echoing voice, just like the guardian. This spirit told me I should forgive myself and not get eaten away by "what ifs" and "could have beens". But what if I...? Just kidding. Boy, I wonder how Jowan is doing. I miss him a lot.

Subsequently we had to fight some spirits who were in fact us, so they were tough. Well, not as tough as I'd like, sadly. Still, it wasn't very easy. Conquer yourself, or something? Very philosophical. Very deep. And then a stupid puzzle to make the bridge to the other side materialize... Who makes this stuff up? It's ridiculous. I understand that only worthy people should take a bit of the Ashes, but for the Maker's sake, we just slew a dragon. Cut us a break. Ah, I'm beginning to sound like Morrigan. Whine, whine, whine. Shut up, Astoreth.

One last thing to whine about: the getting naked and walking through a fire to be purified like Andraste was. I kept my eyes tightly shut, because really, I don't want to see everyone else naked. Actually I don't want them to see me naked either, but no doubt some got an eyeful. Ugh.

"Well, go on, take a pinch of the Ashes!" Leliana claps her hands in glee. Yes, I don't know why I'm dawdling. After all, we came all this way to get them so the arl could get better. And after all this crap he'd better, or I will be very, very miffed. So I stick my hand down the Urn and take a pinch of the Ashes, depositing them in a little vial.

"All right, people." I stuff the Ashes down my hip pouch. "Back to Redcliffe. We have an arl to cure."


	77. Haven - A Healer's Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wynne has done so much for them, Alistair and Astoreth figure they should get her something.

### Haven - A Healer's Gift

"So, do you think this stuff really works?" I ask, toying with the little container of ashes. "Are these really Andraste's ashes?" If they're not, I'm going to throw a fit. I lost four years worth of hair over this, damn it. For years I'd been saving it, taking good care of it, so one day it would hang down to my bum. One dragon, one lousy dragon and I lose half of my tresses! Instead of down to the small of my back, they barely reach halfway down my shoulder blades. Ah, well. Sometimes I forget I was supposed to stop being vain.

Alistair looks up from his seventh bowl of stew. "Well, it bloody well should, after all the work we've done." He gives me stern glare. "And for the Maker's sake, stop messing with those ashes, before you spill them!"

"You're right, sorry." I put them in my pouch again. "So, are you feeling all right now? I mean, after that dragon stepped on you, and not long after that you had to get naked and walk through a fire and all that?"

"I'm okay." He winces and pulls at the bandage wrapped around his chest. "I'm lucky to be alive. Do you think I should get Wynne a present or something, after all she's done for me?"

"You know, that's not a bad idea. I should pitch in too, seeing how she's taken care of me as well. Do you have any idea what she might like?" I can think of nothing but a pair of knitting needles and some yarn, but that's just such a stereotype. Wynne may be old, but I don't see her knitting sweaters while sitting in a rocking chair or anything.

He shrugs. "I think... she likes reading. Her lamp stays on for a long time every night, and she drags this whole collection of books around with her."

"Oh, you know, I have this treatise on dragons and their mating habits in my pack. Let me go get it." I get up and trot into my tent. _On dragonlings and their creation_ is a fancy-looking thing. Bound in brown leather, the title stamped onto the cover in golden script. Very high quality vellum pages. Does the Circle library miss this, I wonder? Nobody's ever asked me to bring it back. What the... What is a dead, mutilated rabbit doing in my pack? Oh yuck, Stubbs... It's a good thing I keep all my stuff in separate bags. Well, my precious puppy means well. Bless his heart, I'll get him a bone next time. And tell him never to do that again. I return to the fire and present the tome to Alistair. "What do you think?"

"Huh. Very fancy." He flips through the pages. "It even has pictures. Neat. Are you sure you'd like to give this away?"

"I've read it about a hundred times, so I pretty much know the thing by heart." I hold out my hand to him. "Come on, let's give it to her right now. The light is still on in her tent."

Wincing in obvious pain, the poor Warden allows me to help him up. "Sure." Heavily he supports himself on me. "Sorry, I can't really walk very well at the moment. Do you mind?"

"No, no, of course not. Are you limping?" Eyeing him with concern, I lay an arm around his waist. This doesn't look good.

"Yes, but I'll be fine. I mend quickly." A bright smile adorns his face as we slowly make our way to Wynne's tent. Obviously his injuries don't bother him so much.

I nod. "If you say so. Wynne, are you still awake?"

A few rustling sounds from inside. "Why, of course. Is there anything you need, young lady?" She pokes her head out of her tent, and smiles upon seeing Alistair. "And young man."

"We just wanted to thank you for all you've done for us so far," he immediately takes the floor. "I would have been dead, if it weren't for you."

The old lady shakes her head. "Pish posh, don't be silly. I'm sure Astoreth would have done exactly the same for you." She smiles warmly at us.

"Yes..." His hand reaches over to pinch my cheek. "She'd have tried, but she wouldn't have been able to. I love you to bits, little Warden, but your healing skills are no match for Wynne's," he chuckles.

Love. Just hearing the word brings pain and joy at the same time. I clear my throat. "Well, in any case, because we wanted to thank you for your awesome healing, we have a gift for you." From behind my back I conjure up the book. "Here you are."

"Oh, thank you." Her voice sounds surprised when she accepts her present. "Ah, _On dragonlings and their creation_! I have been searching for this book for years, but sadly it was always gone from the library." Wynne bursts out laughing; she's opened the book and is pointing at the Circle library stamp on the first page. "And now I know the culprit."

Heat rushes to my face. "Uh, yeah, I've had it in my possession for maybe five years. Nobody's ever asked me to return it. I'm sorry."

"Don't be silly, child. It is a relatively obscure work, and the mating habits of dragons are not on the curriculum of Circle apprentices; I don't believe even Irving remembers this." Affectionately she pats the leather cover. "Thank you, this is truly a marvellous gift."

"You're very welcome!" Alistair smiles happily. "I suppose I'll retire for the night then. Can you help me to my tent?" he asks me.

"Whatever you need. Goodnight, Wynne."

She nods. "Sleep well, children. Astoreth, if I might, I would like a word with you." There is this stern glitter in her eye that doesn't bode quite well. I feel a speech of some sort coming up, but I have no idea what about.

"Sure, just give me a moment." After my colleague has wished the old lady a good night as well, we make our way to his tent. Slowly but surely we get there. "So..." I carefully deposit the poor thing on his bedroll and tuck him in. "Sleep well."

"What do you think Wynne wants with you?" His sweet hazel eyes shoot me a curious look.

I shrug. "Beats me. Maybe she's going to tell me about how I should always return things I borrowed?"

"Could be," he laughs. "How about a kiss goodnight?" With his typical puppy eyes, he points to his cheek.

"Sure." Softly I press my lips to the spot indicated. "Goodnight then."

"So uhm, when Wynne is done with you, will you come back and keep me company for the night?"

The adorable pleading look in his eyes isn't even necessary. As if I could ever deny someone this sweet and handsome such a trifle. "Of course. I will be right back, I'm sure."

Hmm, it's become increasingly difficult to keep my hands off Alistair, whenever I spend a night with him. And that's quite often. Always in his tent too. I know they're talking about us, and that some still believe that it was he that conceived my baby. The odds of that are quite non-existent, with both of us Grey Wardens. But of course, our companions don't know that. And now, for my lecture. "Wynne? What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Come in." She moves the entrance flap away and beckons me in. "I wish to know what your intentions are with Alistair," she speaks, even before I've fully entered. She certainly doesn't like to waste time.

"Well, we are going to raise an army, quell the Blight and recruit new Wardens after that, I suppose." If we find out how the Joining works exactly. Darkspawn blood, some lyrium. A drop of archdemon's blood, if I remember correctly. And a speech.

The old woman raises an eyebrow. "That is not what I meant. You and he are quite taken with each other, aren't you?"

"Taken with...?" Oh, _right_. Another one with the wrong ideas. "I suppose we are, at that. But not in the way you seem to think we are."

Wynne seems taken aback. "Oh, I... Why are you so often in his tent at night then?"

It won't do to verbally abuse someone who has been such a great help to you, so stay polite. Wynne has a mothering personality; she can't help it either. "It's quite a common misconception that Alistair and I are a couple. Some are even convinced that my baby is his." I pat my belly. "Look, there is nothing for you to worry about. We're not lovers, and I don't think we ever will be. Alistair is a great friend, and he comforts me by letting me sleep in his arms. And snoring into my ear." Sometimes he even drools on me.

"Thank you for the explanation." She smiles, obviously more relaxed. "Forgive me the intrusion. I was merely concerned for your fellow Warden's sake; he is a fine warrior, but he does not seem to have as much experience in matters of the heart. And you..." Her cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. "Around the tower I have heard rumours of you, dallying with a templar."

Well, _crap_. "Who was talking about me behind my back?"

"Several of my apprentices loved talking about you. Always alone, or with one single friend. Hardly ever a smile on your face." Carefully Wynne pats the back of my hand. "You must have been happy to meet with Jowan again."

"Oh, yes." I get this pleasantly weak feeling in my stomach whenever I think of our night together. "It was good seeing him again, but I wish it had been under different circumstances."

My companion shrugs. "He made his bed, and now he is to lie in it."

"True enough. Anyway, just to make sure you don't get the wrong ideas: Alistair and I aren't lovers."

"Very well then," the old lady laughs. "And you and ser Carroll, was that also a baseless rumour?"

Carroll? The acting ferryman? The guy with the long face? The templar so easily distracted by a pair of half-covered breasts? I'll pass, thanks. "The idea of Carroll and I is baseless indeed. I think you got your names mixed up there."

"Was it truly Cullen then?" Wynne utters a shocked gasp. "No...! The shy, bumbling one we found trapped in the tower? At least now I understand whose soft lips he was speaking of, and why you slipped into a depression. Is your baby his?"

"Ha, I must be making a very good impression on you right now, no?" I can't help but laugh a little. Seducing a templar, sleeping with a blood mage... Sometimes I question my judgment. "Yes. This is Cullen's baby."

"Oh child, I wouldn't let something like that influence my opinion of you. We are all only human, after all." Smiling kindly, she gives a squeeze to my shoulder. "I assume that with the way he behaved toward you the last time, your relationship has come to an end. How are you feeling now?"

"I'm fine." I shrug. "Morrigan and Leliana have tried their best to comfort me, and so has Alistair. You know, Al even kidnapped Cullen so we could talk. Knocked him out, wrapped him in a carpet and had the both of them ferried over. Despite his efforts, it hardly helped; we're still through, and I never told him about our baby."

A delighted chuckle. "Oh my. Alistair truly cares deeply for you." Her expression becomes more serious. "I am sorry that things have worked out this way. It was a wise decision, not telling him of your child. Who knows how he might have reacted?"

"Those were my thoughts exactly. So uhm, how do you like travelling with all of us?"

The old lady laughs. "Yours is certainly a colourful group. The elven lad is quite persistent in his... attempts at courtship." She makes a face that says she is less than charmed by him.

"Courtship?" Zevran, you dirty dog. "Well, at least that proves you still have it." A long yawn rolls from my mouth unbidden. "Pardon me. I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open."

Wynne lays her hand on my shoulder. "Yes, I can see that. You should rest. Goodnight, my dear."

"Sleep well." After giving her a brief hug (if she's going to act like my mother, I'll treat her as such too), I back out of her tent and make my way to Alistair's.


	78. Haven - Leliana's Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bard has thought things over.

### Haven - Leliana's Realization

Most unexpectedly, Leliana pokes her head out of her tent and waves at me. "Astoreth, could I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course." This must be about that paranoid woman; all the time, our bard was so very quiet and gloomy. She only perked up when we were standing before the ashes. "How are you feeling about what happened to Marjolaine?" I comfortably settle beside the bedroll, across from Leliana. Her fancy tastes are evident in the frilly nightgown she's wearing. Cute, but not my cup of tea.

She sighs deeply. "I wish things had happened differently, but knowing her and knowing me, I don't think it could have." A faint, sad smile appears on her face. "We had good times though, and I look back on those fondly. Whatever happened after will never change the truth of the past."

"You had some kind of special relationship with her, didn't you?" This Marjolaine must have meant so much to her, what with the way she reacted when she found out the woman had it in for her, and the way those two seemed to know each other. Apparently the little redhead really enjoyed being a bard and the power that came with it. I'm not going to judge her; all that stuff happened a long time ago, and now she's killing creatures on our behalf. How is that much different? I'll tell you this though: where I find Leliana's accent beautiful and melodious, Marjolaine's was just grating. Ugh. Just thinking about it nearly makes my ears bleed. Same goes for that twit Isolde.

The bard chuckles awkwardly. "Yes, a long time ago. She was a worldly woman, willing to share so much of her knowledge with me." Another forlorn smile. "I would have done anything for her, once."

"Aw..." I pat the young woman on the knee. "You're too good for her, you know." I seriously mean that. Leliana's been nothing but nice to me, never truly complaining about our hardships out on the road and so very helpful in combat. Nobody can fell an opponent with a well-placed arrow like she can.

She blushes visibly. "Thank you. She used to be so different. Happier, I think. She loved music, and has a weakness for sugary cakes." An adorable giggle escapes her; probably some mental image about Marjolaine and her cakes. "Maybe she was always lying about who she was, or maybe she changed over the years."

"Everyone changes." I shrug. "Just another fact of life."

"That's what they say, and the rest of us just have to move on." Leliana absently runs her fingers through her hair. "And I think I have. Despite what Marjolaine says, I am not like her. I know that." Smiling sweetly, she takes my right hand in both of hers. "I followed you to make the world a better place and as long as I keep that in mind, I will stay at peace. Thank you, for helping me."

"Oh, Leliana, please, that goes without saying. I'll help you with whatever you need done." I consider her a friend, really.

In a slightly strange gesture, she lightly presses a kiss to the back of my hand. "I'm glad I left Lothering in your company. You have proven a true friend and I thank the Maker for you."

"Same here." I reach out to briefly touch her cheek. Such a beautiful face, and those lips... Soft and full. Oh, what am I thinking? This isn't the time for such things. "I'm really glad you came with us."

"You are too kind. Then I shall stop bothering you; I can see you are in desperate need of some sleep," she giggles. Subsequently she crawls into her bedroll. "Goodnight, my friend."

"Goodnight." I bend over her to kiss her goodnight, in a very modest way, of course. "Sweet dreams."

And now, off to Alistair. Here's to spending many of my nights with an exquisitely handsome young man. I'm just going to have to take these itching fingers for granted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends this portion of Astoreth's adventures.


	79. Return to Redcliffe - Pass It Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid adventurers triumphantly return to Redcliffe.

### Return to Redcliffe - Pass It Around

Here we are again, Redcliffe Castle. Thankfully only a few days away from the temple, so we are not too worn out from our journey. Wynne gave us a bit of a scare; after we'd dispatched another band of darkspawn, she collapsed. Given her age, I thought she'd died, but luckily she immediately got back up. The woman brushed off any questions I asked her, and promised to explain everything in camp. And what an explanation it was. Apparently she died during the troubles in the tower and was possessed by a benevolent Fade spirit. That is what keeps her more or less alive. We meet some peculiar people, to be sure.

I truly hope this little pinch of charred human remains will cure the arl. If it's not, well, I am going to be very angry. We went through a ton of crap to get it. The arlessa squeals in joy as soon as I hand her the pouch and runs upstairs to administer them to her husband, Bann Teagan following her closely. I wonder how that will work. Will the Ashes be sprinkled onto him? Mixed with liquid and made into a potion? Poured down his ears? Yuck.

Everyone is anxiously waiting for the results, but frankly I have better things to do than just pace around the room. I poke Alistair in the ribs. "While they are busy, I'm going to check up on Jowan, okay?" He nods and continues worrying, frantically running a hand through his hair. Not even a response when I squeeze his shoulder.

Walking down the stairs that lead to the dungeon, I hear a high-pitched man's voice singing. "Thirty-nine bottles of ale on the wall..." Well, I guess one has to do _something_ to prevent death from boredom. Jowan doesn't even notice me at first. Ha, he's grown a scraggly beard in the time I was away. Not pretty. "Take one down..."

"Pass it around," I chime in.

My friend stops mid-sentence and jumps up. "Tori!" He sticks his arms through the bars and I hug him as best as I can with all this metal in the way. "You found them, didn't you?" His face takes on a smug expression when I nod. "See, I told you so."

I roll my eyes. "Rub it in, why don't you?" As per his request I tell him about our adventures in Denerim, Haven and Andraste's temple. Especially the dragon seems to interest him, but I leave out the encounter with the spirit that was mimicking him. That would just be weird. "Anyway, I think I may have found a way to save you," I finish my storytelling.

"Save me? How?" Jowan looks at me with a look of both interest and worry on his face.

I clear my throat. "Well, there are two routes I can take. The first is the Right of Conscription. The Grey Wardens may recruit anyone into their order, no matter their station, crime, or whatever. That does mean you would eventually have to join us."

"What do you mean, eventually?" He rests his arms on the bars, listening intently.

"Neither Alistair nor I know exactly how the initiation ritual works. Chances are we can only initiate you when we get to the Orlesian Wardens. And the second option is well, lying through my teeth to the arl." I curve my arms around the quite prominent bump my child now forms. "I could try saying this baby is yours, and put on a tearful display of how it shouldn't grow up without a father, boohoo, that sort of thing. So what do you say? Join the Grey Wardens, or live a lie?"

My friend shakes his head and smiles sadly. No doubt his blushing is caused by my suggestion to pretend he's impregnated me. "Neither. I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I just... Well, I don't want to walk away from my crimes unpunished."

"So you..." I swallow and stare at him in disbelief. Suddenly my throat is very dry. "You would rather die than fight evil with me?" Maker's breath, and here I thought I'd finally come up with a way to save my oldest friend. Still, I cannot force him to do something he doesn't want to do. Sigh. "So be it, then. One other thing though." I grasp his hands and hold them firmly. "I'm so sorry I failed you. If I'd just done more to help, you and Lily could've been together, milking cows and stuff. And..." My voice breaks and I can feel wetness upon my cheeks. "I said you ruined my life, but in fact I fucked yours up too. Please, _please_ forgive me."

"What? No, don't say that." Jowan releases my hands and begins gently wiping away my tears. "None of this is your fault. If there is anything to forgive, I've already done so. Don't cry."

I sniffle. "If you say so. Crying won't change a thing anyway." Roughly I wipe my face with my sleeve. I'll get over this guilt eventually. Fake Jowan was right: it's no use thinking about what could've happened. This is reality and nothing will change it.

"You've grown a little while you were gone." With a gentle smile on his face he lays his hand upon my belly. I can feel the warmth of him through my robes.

"Yes, I was gone for what, a fortnight?" It was hard to keep track of time with all the travelling and fighting we did. One day would just blur into another.

Jowan clicks his tongue. "Try three weeks. I've been really lonely without you," he says pitifully.

"I missed you too." It's good to see him again. Three weeks, damn. "What have you been doing while I was away?"

"I went through my entire repertoire of songs, played tic-tac-toe with myself." I notice a great many tic-tac-toe grids, scratched into the wall. "But even always winning gets boring after a while, you know?" He chuckles with a sparkle in his eyes. Obviously he is delighted to see me. That, or he's grateful for someone to keep him occupied.

While Jowan continues asking me questions about the high dragon we encountered, footsteps echo on the stone steps and soon the arl's brother appears. He greets me with a polite nod. "My brother has recovered and wishes to see you." He pulls a key ring from his belt. "You and your friend."

I nod and make my way upstairs while Teagan opens Jowan's cage. The blood in my veins has been replaced by cold water, knots in my stomach. This is it. There is no way the arl will let him off easy after the things he's set in motion.


	80. Return to Redcliffe - A Lavish Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grey Warden party get to stay a bit longer in Redcliffe before moving on.

### Return to Redcliffe - A Lavish Feast

This is the first time I've seen Arl Eamon awake. He looks a bit shaky, but otherwise he seems to be fine. He immediately insists on offering me a reward I don't really need or want, but telling the man no would be very impolite. So now we are champions of Redcliffe and the proud owners of a new shield with the town's symbol on it. I cannot contain myself from joy. Yay, and stuff.

The arl wants to call the Landsmeet and have all the Fereldan nobles come together. They are to vote on who they want as their king: Loghain, or... Alistair. This earns Eamon no small amount of sputtering from my colleague. He obviously does not want to be king; not that I didn't already know that. Despite his reluctance though, I'm sure he would make a fine king. He is a good guy. Eventually he just gives in to the man's wishes. Better he be king than Loghain. While the arl is going to be busy sending messages to all the attendants of this Landsmeet, we will be pursuing the treaties.

When Jowan is brought before his would-be victim, I'm having trouble not to flinch. This is going to hurt. His crimes are recounted, he makes no objections and says he's sorry, and finally the arl asks me what I think he should do with him. Well, let him come with me, of course. But no. If my friend wishes to lay down his life, then so it will be.

"I say let the Circle decide his fate." My voice sounded remarkably steady for someone who'd like to cry and beg. But I suppose I'm done crying. No more crying.

The arl nods contentedly. "True enough, and wisely said." He turns to his son's former tutor. "Jowan, I hereby turn you over to the Circle of Magi. May the Maker have mercy on your soul."

"Thank you, my lord," he says meekly. "Goodbye, Tori." He smiles at me, a hint of sadness but mostly resignation in his gaze.

When the bann moves to take him away, I raise my hand. "Hold on a moment. Won't he need an escort to the Circle's tower? I'm sure all of your men are needed in helping Redcliffe rebuild." I flash the arl my most charming smile. "Perhaps _we_ could take him there."

The older man scratches his beard in contemplation. "You have the right of it. Fine then." He nods. "You have my permission to escort your friend to the Circle."

"Thank you, my lord." I briefly dip into a bow. "Then we shall depart right now."

An unexpected sound of laughter comes out of the arl. "Nonsense! Today you'll be our guests and we will celebrate." The arlessa, who is standing next to him, grabs a hold of her husband's arm and looks up at him adoringly. Love is in the air. I still think she's a bitch though, no matter how sweet she may look now.

"Great." My stomach growls loudly enough for all to hear. "I was hoping you'd say that, my lord."

~*|'-'|*~

The banquet the arl gave in our honour was even more lavish than the one his wife had provided us with the last time we were here. An entire wild boar, beef, chickens, baked potatoes, mashed potatoes, various braised vegetables and desserts, oh the desserts! In fact I ate very little of the savoury things and stuffed my face with the cakes, pies, puddings and fresh fruits. Chocolate, whipped cream, strawberries, peaches, oranges, apples, grapes... Now all I need is a sexy man whose body I can eat this off of and I'm set.

You know, I had expected Alistair to complain about my decision to escort Jowan back to Kinloch Hold, but instead he is occupying himself with devouring half of the roast boar (an overstatement, but not by much). Perhaps he will talk to me about this later, or perhaps he understands that the guy is my friend, has been most of my life. The Warden seems to be over the whole debacle with his harpy sister and is back to his usual cheery self. I am most grateful for that. It's sad that Jowan was sent back to his cell, not allowed to join in our revelry. So I'm now collecting bits and pieces of this fine food; I may bring them to him when all are asleep.

My full belly makes me all sleepy. So while the others continue eating, drinking and being merry, I excuse myself to soak in a hot bath for a while.


	81. Return to Redcliffe - Annoying Questions, Even More Annoying Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth, covered only by a little towel, runs into someone she doesn't trust quite yet.

### Return to Redcliffe - Annoying Questions, Even More Annoying Answers

Hmmm, now this is living. I've been sitting in this bath for over half an hour now, the hot water infused with a few drops of my vanilla and lemon oil. So relaxing and fragrant. Back in the tower I never took my time bathing because of the rumours. Some of the girls were whispering about templars watching us while we bathe and I figured it was true. It just made sense. After all, for all they knew we were practicing forbidden magic in the tub. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.

But here I am all alone, free to do whatever I please without anyone watching. Knowing me though, I would probably enjoy some unknown man watching me bathe, watching me run a soapy sponge along my skin. Ah, thinking of that makes me so hot. I'm a bad, bad girl. My by now very trained hands slide down and briefly squeeze my hard nipples. The right one descends my body even further, caressing my belly to say hi to the baby on the way and ending up between my legs.

My lips are already swollen with excitement. Even in the water I can feel I am very wet. Well of course I'm wet, what with taking a bath and all, but there is an obvious difference between water and the slick juices from a woman's... honey pot. Strange how I have absolutely no problems saying words like cock and fuck, but cunt is still too embarrassing. Someday, maybe.

I slowly trace circles around my button with my fingers. This time I am in no hurry to come; I'm going to try pleasuring myself the way Daveth (I'm just going to go with that) did it with his tongue. Just thinking of the man's gorgeous body makes me dizzy. He literally looked tasty, with that caramel-coloured skin. If he had survived his Joining, I would probably have run into his arms immediately after the thing with Cullen. We would have shared a tent, made love every night and every free moment of the day too I bet. Or I could've been the one who was killed by having a bad reaction to darkspawn-juice. No, never; I'm far too lucky for something like that. Too bad Daveth wasn't. Making love to him every day sounds just fabulous.

Suddenly the tension that has built in my centre releases, sending pleasure through my entire body. Moaning softly, I slow the movements of my hand and stroke the sensitive side of my breast to intensify my climax. No, _this_ here is living. I could just do it all day long.

After a few more orgasms, the water has cooled enough to no longer be pleasant. Look, I'm all wrinkly! I step out of the tub and dry myself off with a towel before wrapping it around me. The thing is barely large enough to cover my behind. Let's hope I don't meet anyone on the way to my room.

But of course I run into Zevran, of all people. Shamelessly he looks me up and down, staring hard at my towel as if he is trying to make it come off with sheer willpower alone. "Good evening, Warden." His voice has taken on that lustful tone it does whenever he is chatting up a woman. No doubt my scantily clad appearance doesn't help me at all.

"Hello Zevran." I try to quickly walk past him, but his hand snatches my wrist and stops me.

His full lips stretch into a naughty-looking grin. "What is your hurry? Why don't you stay here and... _speak_ with me." Don't think I didn't hear that pause, mister. Or the suggestive tone when you said "speak".

Well, maybe it's because he has tried to kill me, maybe it's because I'm dressed in nothing but a towel, but I just don't trust this man. I don't care how handsome his face is, how beautiful his eyes, how kissable his lips, how much I would like to touch those pointy ears; I simply don't trust him. "My hurry is that I would like to get dressed. But fine, I'll humour you: what would you like to talk about?"

"I happen to like you just the way you are." With a low chuckle Zevran moves to stand a little closer to me. "No excess fabric."

I sigh and roll my eyes. He pulls these tricks every time, and not just with me. Morrigan, Leliana and even Wynne are getting sick of his constant advances. "Great, thanks. Was that all?"

"If I may be so bold..." His fingers brush the curve of my belly. "Whose child is this? Is it Alistair's?"

"For crying out loud! Why is the notion of Alistair impregnating me so widely accepted?" I fold my arms before my chest and glare at him. "Seeing how it is in _my_ womb, you can safely assume that this baby is mine."

The former Crow throws back his head and utters a hearty laugh. "Yes, I gathered that. But who, pray tell, put it in you?" I must admit that his accent is thoroughly exciting, even with his annoying ways.

"A man did." I can be annoying too when I want to be. Better yet, I bet I can also be annoying when I _don't_ want to be.

Zevran sighs exasperatedly, probably put off by my evasive answers. I actually stole this from Sten: when I'd asked him what he was doing in that cage in Lothering, he said he was sitting. Yeah, I saw that. "Fine, Warden, be that way." A lightly insulted tone has crept into my companion's voice. "Goodnight then." With a last pout in my direction, the handsome elf walks away.

Oh, he is _good_. I actually feel a little guilty. But fuck that, I'm not going to feel guilty over not telling my would-be assassin who fathered my child. I'm going to go to my room, moisturise my skin and have a good night's sleep. Bringing those snacks to Jowan will have to wait until tomorrow.


	82. Return to Redcliffe - Simmer and Fester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would seem that she doesn't have to bring that food to Jowan at all.

### Return to Redcliffe - Simmer and Fester

I am awakened by my door opening with a barely audible creak. It would seem that constantly being on the lookout for enemies has made me paranoid, sharpened my senses. I quietly slip out of my bed, dagger in hand. It doesn't matter that I'm almost naked; I would rather be naked and alive than get killed while hunting for my night shirt. Although he hasn't tried anything yet, I still fear that Zevran might try to kill me again.

Silently I position myself beside the door opening and wait until my unknown visitor enters. I knew my sneaking around with Cullen would come in handy eventually. When the person comes in, I curve my left arm around their torso to lock their arms in place and hold my dagger up to their throat. "Got you now, bitch!" I hiss. From the feel of it, this is a man. But it's not Zevran; this one is taller and thinner. Oh boy.

"Eek!" my friend squeaks anxiously. "I surrender, have mercy!"

I quickly release him. "Jowan? Don't tell me Bann Teagan forgot to lock your cell again."

"No..." His voice sounds cautious as he rubs his throat. "He did. But when I leaned against the door, it swung open. The lock mechanism is probably broken."

"Right. Let me take a look at you." I gently pry his hand away and inspect his throat. There is a shallow cut, a tiny bit of blood trickling out. The few nicks on his face are worse. "Eh, you'll live."

He scoffs. "Not for very long, probably. Who in the Maker's name were you expecting?" His eyes dart nervously toward the blade I'm holding.

"Someone with intentions that would be detrimental to my health." I deposit my dagger on the desk.

"Oh, good." My friend chuckles briefly. "For a moment I thought you were into very cruel bedroom games."

"Do I look like the kind of girl who slits her lovers' throats?" I narrow my eyes and shoot him a mock glare.

"Well no, of course not." My previous attack apparently forgotten, his pale blue eyes travel all over my body with unveiled interest. "But you _are_ naked."

"Now that's not true. I'm still wearing my panties, see?" I point to them conspicuously.

Jowan drapes his arms around my waist. "That could easily be remedied." His voice has dropped a few octaves, bringing back memories of the last time we met.

"Oh my. Looking for another re-enactment of your last request, are we?" I rest my arms around his neck and pull him a little closer. There is a floral scent around him; only now do I notice his hair is damp. He must've bathed and shaved before he came here. Sensible. No girl would let a man who went unwashed for a long time into her bed. It's funny though; I don't think I've ever seen him without any stubble on his jaw since he was fifteen.

Eyes fixed on my lips, he says: "Maybe." Slowly, ever so slowly his face comes closer to mine.

"You know, you smell especially girly right now." I can't help it; teasing him is in my very blood.

For a moment he looks puzzled, then begins snickering. "Oh really? Well, you smell like..." His face feels uncharacteristically smooth as he buries it in my neck to deeply breathe in my scent. "Like... lemons." All of a sudden he sounds so very sad, the arms around me gone.

Uh oh. "Hey, what's wrong?" Did I do something?

"Lily always smelled lemony fresh." He sniffles. "I miss her so much."

Of all the scents I could choose... "Oh, damn it. I'm sorry. Come here." I guide him to my bed and let him sit down. "You get comfy. I saved you some food from dinner." I retrieve the greasy bag from my pack while he takes off boots and shirt, and get into bed with my friend, who looks utterly miserable with the sheets pulled up to his chin. "Come on man, talk to me. Asparagus?" I dangle the now limp and unappetizing-looking vegetable before his nose.

His face crumples in disgust and he shakes his head. "No, thanks. On both counts."

"All right." I dump the food on the night stand, open my arms. "Need a hug?"

Jowan nods and allows me to embrace him. His head rests on the slope of my breasts, his arms loosely around my waist. I can hear and feel him sniffing, muttering a single word under his breath over and over again. The name of a certain flower. And the name of a certain girl he loved and betrayed. His voice sounds as if he's far, far away from here.

There isn't much I can do for him, so I just stroke his hair until he suddenly sits up. His eyes are looking straight through me, as though under some kind of spell. "I love you, Lily." He speaks slowly and emotionally, caressing my cheek with a touch so gentle it makes me want to weep. There is no way, _no way_ that he could confuse me with her, even if it were completely dark. I don't know exactly what's going on, but I think it best to just cooperate. That's what friends are for, in a way. For comfort. And if for that he needs me to be Lily, well...

Our lips meet for a long kiss, sweet, gentle and loving; his arms wrap tightly around my body to hold me close. After a few moments he releases me. "I'm sorry," he whispers sadly. "So sorry, Lily." His eyes are still distant and vacant. I'm not sure if I should say anything. Better that I do not, since my voice doesn't resemble hers by a long shot.

Not reacting to my silence at all, his mouth latches onto my neck to cover me with tiny kisses. I can feel his hands all over me, finally halting their caresses to peel off my panties and apparently bare himself as well. Slowly he pushes his erection into me, muttering apologies and declarations of love into my ear. I'd forgotten just how big he is and how intensely fucking good he feels inside me. Being stretched out like this makes me want to cry out, but it will only ruin the illusion. So instead I bite down into my knuckles to stifle the sounds that would otherwise come pouring out of me.

His thrusts are slow and gentle, treating me like a delicate flower. Which makes sense if your name is Lily. Is this the way he would make love to her? It feels so warm and tender.

Warm droplets fall onto my face and I look up to find him still staring through me, crying without a sound. "Forgive me, my love. I betrayed you. Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me..." Jowan continues speaking this phrase over and over and over again, never stopping his thrusting motions. I can't restrain myself; I have to say something. With the state he's in, he probably won't even notice the difference. "Maybe you should lay off the chocolate a little, my love," he mumbles absently, his hand on my belly. Or maybe he will.

"I forgive you, dearest." My hands reach up to cup his face. What else should I say? "The time has come for you to move on."

He nods slowly, a sad smile appearing on his face. "I will, love. Thank you." With that, he bends down and kisses me tenderly. His body stills and judging from the throbbing deep within me, he spends his seed. His climax is accompanied by no more than a soft groaning sound. He detaches his mouth from mine and presses a kiss to my forehead. "Goodbye, my Lily." The sadness in his voice has disappeared to be replaced with something else. Closure, perhaps. I don't rightly know.

As he rolls off me, I move farther away. From the way he is breathing, I can tell he fell asleep almost immediately. His thin frame is curled into a foetal position. Good. I slip out of bed, dig my night shirt from my pack and put it on. Hmm, obviously putting the food in my pack wasn't a good idea, since my shirt smells like meat and veggies. Only now do I become conscious of the pain in my hand. The teeth marks are bleeding, the gashes deep and the skin around them swollen. Gah, that hurts.

I quietly close the door behind me. Now to wash all this off me. Although I willingly gave myself to him so he could set things straight with Lily, at least in his mind, I can't help but feel used. Yes, I helped him, great. It wasn't as if he hurt me, or that it wasn't pleasurable physically. Mentally it just felt _wrong_. My body was merely a tool, a vessel. He didn't know what he was doing, yes, I know. Still. I'm never going to use that particular scented oil again.

Thankfully the guest bathroom is empty. I fill a bath with water and heat it magically, add plenty of foam. Playing with it might distract my troubled mind. Awesome how large these bathtubs are; large enough for two people. I slide into the water after taking off my shirt and furiously scrub the night's events off me, flinging foam and bubbles about the place.

And the best part about all this? I cannot speak to anyone else of it. It's not something that just comes up during conversations. Not to mention that it's also embarrassing. Morrigan would probably laugh at me for being such a soft-hearted sop, Leliana would be paralyzed with shock at the partial abuse and Alistair, well, I wouldn't even know how to address such a topic to him. Jowan would just have something else to feel guilty over. That's the last thing I want. So I guess this will simmer and fester inside of me until it rots away.


	83. Return to Redcliffe - Splish Splash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baths are more fun with a buddy.

### Return to Redcliffe - Splish Splash

In the distance I hear sounds of a pair of bare feet approaching. Great. Jowan pokes his head into the area and grins upon seeing me sitting in the tub. "Hi." His voice sounds rather cheerful as he crouches by the side of the bath. His good mood helps in lifting my ill temper, if only a little. It's nice to help. "The bed feels empty without you." His cheerful tone turns to one of concern when he grabs my wounded hand. "How did this happen?"

"Don't worry about it." I snatch my hand from his grasp and dunk it under water. Ooh, that stings.

"Should I get you some salve for that, or something?"

I dismissively wave my hand. "Nah. Anyway, is there anything you need from me?"

"No." He blows a few stray locks out of his face. "I just missed you, that's all. You're not angry with me for falling asleep, are you?" His fingers reach out to trace the now pink scar on my cheek. "I'm sorry if that's the case; it's just that you make me feel safe. Your warmth brings me so much comfort, Tori." His eyes light up with the smile his mouth stretches into.

Boy, you don't know the half of it. "That's good to hear. You sure look happy."

"Do I?" His smile widens even further. "I had the best dream! Lily and I made love and she said she forgives me and that I should move on. Do you think this is some sign from the Maker?" Resting his head on the cool porcelain of the bathtub's rim, he looks up at me with pleading eyes. Pleading me to say that yes, it is a sign from the Maker.

I shrug noncommittally. "Who knows?" I'm in no mood to humour him. Wish that I could pretend everything was peachy keen, but sadly I'm not cut out for that. I'm actually quite proud that I haven't shed a tear over what happened earlier. "All I know is that Lily is lost to you and dwelling over her isn't going to do you any good." It's a cold thing to say, but that doesn't make it any less true.

For only an instant, my friend looks angry. "That's harsh, Astoreth." Then the look in his eyes softens. "But you are right." He scoops up a bunch of foam and blows it from his hand. The next few moments are spent in silence; we both play with the bubbles, gradually draining the supply of foam. When it's all gone, Jowan says triumphantly: "Ha! I knew there was a naked woman under here somewhere."

His playfulness greatly improves my mood. I'll get over it. "You know what else is?" I grab him by the collar and pull him into the tub with a loud splash. "A clothed man!"

After thrashing about in surprise for a few moments, he relaxes and smiles. "You know, I'm not going to complain. I'm here with a beautiful naked woman, after all." His arms wind around my waist and pull me close to his body, his eyes intently looking into mine. My heart begins beating about ten times faster when he kisses me softly but urgently. Okay, now I'm definitely over it. I wrap my legs around him and easily flip us over, weightless as we are in the water.

This feels nice, being surrounded by warm water and the craving touch of a lover's hands. He seems to be particularly interested in grabbing my behind. The moment I interrupt our kiss to look down on his form, a whining noise escapes him. I have to admit that even though I like my men with more meat on them, he looks deliciously sexy with the fabric of his shirt clinging to his skin. Jowan isn't muscular, like Cullen or Alistair, but he is attractive in his own way. It makes me attack his lips with renewed fervour. This time he utters a content humming sound as our tongues stroke one another.

My fingers undo the laces that keep his pants closed; it seems more difficult in the water. But finally I manage to open them and slip my hand inside. Rock hard already; I can hardly wait to have him in me. So he mistook me for Lily in some kind of waking dream, why did I make such a big deal out of it? This is what matters, this right here, what we have now. Some kind of mixture between friendship and a sordid affair.

He moans softly into my mouth as my hand rubs his cock. I love how my fingers can only barely close around it. Suddenly he thrusts his fingers into me, causing me to moan and bite down into his lower lip. Sweet mercy, the boy knows what he's doing. And he does it well. I release his lip from between my teeth and taste his blood. His other hand creeps up my chest to knead my breasts and send little jolts of pleasure into my body. That is it, I cannot wait any longer.

There is no need to prepare, so I simply grab him at the base, brush his fingers aside and lower myself onto his cock in one smooth motion. A gasp tumbles from my lips upon feeling him fill me. "Oh Jowse, you're so big," I purr into his ear. A little compliment never hurt anyone, right?

"Really?" His voice sounds breathless, and as I hoped, flattered. "You are..." A few soft kisses down my throat, on my collar bone. "Just perfect."

Perfect? Excuse me? "Oh, well..." I bite my lip and feel the blood rush to my face. "That is awfully sweet of you."

"Yes, yes." His lips trail lower. "Less talking, more moaning." And moan I do, with the hard thrust upwards from my lover's hips. Fine, fine. I can take a hint.

I brace myself by holding onto the bathtub's rim and begin moving in tandem with his thrusts. Soon we have achieved a perfect harmony. The water sloshes with every movement of our bodies. I can feel his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, his hot mouth alternatively sucking on my nipples, nibbling on them. This is certainly making me moan all right. It's an all-out assault on my senses, apparently hell-bent on driving me insane with pleasure.

I wonder, is it as good for him as it is for me? As if to answer this unspoken question, Jowan raises his head and stares me in the face. His half-closed eyes are shining with a feverish passion, low moans and gasps coming from between his parted lips. Yes, it must be. I slide my tongue into his mouth and quicken the rhythm of my grinding hips. My lover allows me to take over and grabs a firm hold of my bum, content to focus on squeezing into it.

Oh Maker, this cock is so incredibly thick. I'm so lucky, so bloody spoiled. We simultaneously moan into each other's mouth with each thrust. An orgasm would make this even better. And so my right hand releases the tub and moves to my pulsating clit. A few flicks of my index finger and my entire body tenses. The forceful waves of bliss make it difficult to continue my riding motions, and perceptive as always, Jowan takes over. As soon as my muscles spasm around him, the unmistakeable throbbing begins. I lean back to watch him come.

With a last thrust so hard that it would send me flying to the ceiling if he weren't holding me, his mouth opens in a soundless scream, eyes squeezed shut. His body convulses for a few times, each convulsion accompanied by deep heaving of his chest. So beautiful; I just love watching this.

Soon his eyes open with a satisfied sigh. He gives me a quick peck on the nose, grinning contently. I untangle myself from around his body and move to sit beside him. The water has become rather cold.

"This is a nice way of spending my last days," Jowan drawls. He links his arm with mine and rests his head against me. "You are the best friend ever."

"Awww..." I giggle girlishly. "Well, you too."

He winces. "Ow, my lip is a bit tender." Upon closer inspection, I see it's swollen and still bleeding lightly.

"Tsk tsk, poor thing. Let me kiss it better for you." I press my lips to his and conjure the tiniest bit of healing energy into my touch. I don't necessarily need my hands for that. The blue light envelops the slight injury. When the light is gone, so is any trace of my teeth marks.

My friend chuckles. "That wasn't necessary, but thank you." With a sweet smile, he presses a kiss to the back of my hand.

I can't suppress the shudder that comes over me. "Now, shall we get out of here? It's getting cold."

He nods. "Agreed." Ever the gentleman, he gets out of the tub first to help me, even hands me the shirt I discarded earlier. From the looks he's giving me as we walk to my room, I don't think we will be getting much sleep tonight. And I wouldn't have it any other way.


	84. Return to Redcliffe - Pretty, Pretty Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth has a plan for Jowan.

### Return to Redcliffe - Pretty, Pretty Please

I yawn and stretch, expecting to find my friend's warm body in my bed. But he's gone, even though he is usually a much bigger sleepyhead than I am. I slept more than I thought I would; after we had sex for the fifth time or so, Jowan passed out from sheer fatigue. He was mumbling something about how I would be the death of him. Personally I would prefer dying from exhaustion caused by too many orgasms over any other way, but hey, that might just be me.

The tantalizing smell of freshly baked bread floats into the room, making my mouth water. I think I know where he went. His clothes are still in a crumpled, damp pile next to the bed; he didn't leave this room in the nude, did he? Oh dear. Sometimes the prospect of good food makes him forget everything else.

Quickly I slip into my underwear and robes to race to the dining room. Jowan is there, as I had thought, but thankfully he isn't naked. Whew. The table is littered with all kinds of food, their delicious smells filling the air. I don't get to see such luxury often these days. My friend seems too busy buttering slices of bread to notice me, but looks up when my stomach growls loudly.

"Well, someone is hungry." He smiles when I bend down to kiss his cheek. Ah, there is the stubble I know and love. It sure grows quickly.

I sit down and snatch a few slices from his plate. "Damn right." Ooh, it's still warm. Mmm. Sinking my teeth into the bread and chewing, I impolitely say with my mouth full: "You know, I happen to have clothes exactly like yours in my pack."

"Not anymore you don't," he chuckles. "I needed something to wear. You don't mind, do you?"

I shake my head and look him up and down. The robes I stole from Irving look like they were tailor-made for him. In regular clothes he looks cute and all, but like this? Rawr.

I can feel Alistair heading this way and an evil plot hatches in my brain. Today it's payback time. Soon my colleague walks in and sits down across from us, not at all surprised to find our prisoner here.

I wave at him. "Good morning, Alistair. Did you sleep well?"

"Morning. Yes! The beds here are great, don't you think?" He accepts the breadbasket Jowan hands him, thanking him with a nod. "Ooh, this smells good." His eyes close and a delighted expression appears on his face.

"It tastes good too!" Another slice of bread goes into my mouth. I better enjoy this while I can; who knows how much longer it will be before we get to have food that isn't stew? But now for my revenge... My fingers walk a slow path up my best friend's thigh. He almost chokes on his coffee and gives me a shocked stare. "Something the matter?" I ask him sweetly.

"Uh, n-no..." he stutters. A blush creeps into his face when my fingers find their prize and slowly stroke it through the soft fabric of his robes. Looking over at Alistair, I can tell he's too busy enjoying his breakfast to notice what I am doing under the table. The boy is almost purring in joy with every bite he takes.

"So Alistair, which treaty do you think we should go after first: the elves or the dwarves?"

He looks up from his plate. "You mean, after we bring your friend back to the tower, right?"

"Yes, about that..." My stroking motions have made my friend grow quickly and so I close my hand around the shaft. "I had an idea." Next to me, Jowan's breath hitches in his throat as I give his erection a little squeeze. From the corner of my eye I can see him firmly grabbing the edge of the table, his knuckles pale. That's what he gets from secretly fingering me in the presence of other people.

"Oh? Tell me." The handsome Warden has stopped eating and eyes me expectantly.

"Well, I think that going to Kinloch Hold at this point is an incredible detour that would cost us too much time. So what do you say we bring him along on our travels until we find we have no choice but to go there?" I do hope Alistair doesn't mind my plan; after all, we need all the help we can get and Jowan is a good mage.

Across from the table, my colleague eyes me incredulously. "Are you kidding? You promised Arl Eamon you'd escort him to the Circle."

"So I did, but I didn't say when." I sigh and put on my saddest face. "Look, this guy has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I would like more than just four days to say goodbye, you know?"

I stop my stroking, making Jowan sigh in relief. "What do you think, hmm?" I address him.

"Huh, what?" he replies vaguely. He stares at me in confusion.

I drape my arm around his shoulders. "Imagine: going to some far off place, you and me. Well, and the others. It will be just like old times!" My free arm makes a wide gesture. "Except that we will be outside, and there will be much more fighting. How does that sound?"

"Hmmm..." My friend chews his lip in contemplation. "I did always want to see the world..."

"Pleeease Alistair? Pleeeease?" I put on my best pout and wide eyes. "Pretty please?" Nudging Jowan, I tell him: "Come on you, make with the cuteness."

"The...? Oh, oh, right." He mimics my facial expression. Alistair looks at the both of us in turn, obviously wanting to say no, but struggling against our adorable little faces.

Eventually he sighs in defeat. "Maker's breath, I hate it when people gang up on me like that. Fine, we can bring him along for a while." The Warden shrugs. "After all, we have a Qunari who murdered an entire family with us; what's another blood mage, right?"

I squeal in delight and clap my hands. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I run around the table to fling my arms around his neck and shower him with kisses. He weakly protests, but I can tell he likes it. When I'm done, Alistair awkwardly clears his throat and gets up.

"I'm ah, going to pack my things." Before almost running out the door, he says: "See you later then."

"Thanks again," my friend beams. "Say, are you two...?" he asks me a bit uncomfortably. What he means is obvious.

"Engaging in the four-legged frolic? Playing the national indoor game? Trading a bit of hard for a bit of soft? Is Alistair buttering Astoreth's bun, you wonder? Trust me, had it been the case, you'd have walked in on us doing just that last time." Hmm, having Alistair as a toy would be nice though.

Jowan gives me an incredulous look. "Maker's breath, girl, where did you pick up all of those dirty expressions?" Then he shrugs. "Never mind, I get what you mean anyway. You're not having an affair with him."

"So..." I lay my hand upon his leg once more. "What say you I finish what I started?" I look around and find us all by ourselves. "With my mouth?" Why am I even asking? I slide off my chair to crawl under the table and hike up his robes. Ooh, no smallclothes. How naughty.

Let's not keep this poor boy waiting, shall we? I curl my tongue around the tip of his erection and suck it into my mouth. From somewhere above me I hear a soft gasp, followed by a hand grabbing me by the back of the head. Immediately he pushes me down, urging me to go deeper and faster. I normally don't take orders from anyone, but somehow I like this.

Footsteps... This is exciting. What if someone catches me here? I will probably never hear the end of it, or maybe I will never be welcome in Castle Redcliffe again. The hand on the back of my head disappears and I can just imagine my friend trying to look serious. Revenge is mine.

"Good morning," I hear Leliana saying cheerfully. "Is Astoreth up yet?" The scraping of chair legs against the stone floor follows.

"Good morning. She is, but I think she went to the privy," my friend replies. His voice sounds steady. But do I detect just a hint of quivering? Hehehe...

I hear a noise that sounds like someone is buttering a piece of toast. "I see. She and you are very good friends, no?" Curious Leliana.

"We are. We've known each other most of our lives, so..." Apart from his slightly quickened breathing, one would probably never be able to tell he was being secretly serviced. When did I turn into such a freak? Why do I care? This is fun. Some women may not even do such things, but I just _love_ having a nice penis in my mouth.

"How sweet," our bard says with a smile in her voice. "If you don't mind me saying, at first I thought you were lovers."

Jowan makes a choking noise and coughs. Apparently he just took a bite of something. "No, no," he croaks.

Leliana giggles. "You cannot fool me. Just look at you, blushing, sweating and panting like a dog." Suddenly I feel her foot lightly kicking my backside. "Astoreth, you naughty girl! Now I know where all those marks on you came from last time." Her tone is one of approval mixed with naughtiness.

I release my friend's erection from between my lips and let my hand take over. "Don't tell anyone, Leliana. Please."

"Of course I will not," she chuckles in reply. "You helped me with Marjolaine, so I will not betray your trust. Let us speak later, yes?" The scraping noise indicates her getting up. "For now, darlings, enjoy your time together."

"Thank you," Jowan squeaks. When she is out of earshot (her footsteps faintly echo in the hallway) I continue using my mouth. He grabs me again to direct my speed. After a while he begins throbbing, and eventually his hands leave me. He must've come, but where is...? Nothing came out. Wow, I must've really drained him yesterday.

"Well, at least now you can walk out of here without pitching yourself a tent." I neatly smooth down his robes. "Is it safe to come out?"

"Yes. Here, let me help you." Jowan rises and moves back his chair to help me up. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't let a pregnant woman do this for me."

I wave my hand dismissively. "Don't be silly; I'm pregnant, not disabled."

He shakes his head, his face red as a poppy. "Maker's breath! Seeing how I will be travelling with you a while, things might get awkward with your friend there."

"No, don't worry. She won't say anything." I steal a quick kiss. "I'm going to pack my things too, see you later."

He nods and turns his attention to the remaining bread on his plate. "Sure." Already he has forgotten me in favour of his breakfast. Men.


	85. Road to Honnleath - Righteous Grey Wardening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventurers run into something interesting on the road.

### Road to Honnleath - Righteous Grey Wardening

Well, bringing my friend along was received with mixed reactions. Wynne was wary, but not unkind; Leliana welcomed him as if he had never done anything wrong and as promised, said nothing about catching us at breakfast; Morrigan showed her usual cold disinterest; Stubbs sniffed him thoroughly before barking his approval; Sten protested about his use of blood magic and Zevran simply didn't give a fig. Jowan is kind of acting like a scaredycat, hiding behind me most of the time. Eventually everyone will get used to each other. Probably right before I hand him over to the Circle, but hey, life just isn't the same without a healthy amount of drama.

And now we're on the road again. We decided to go to Orzammar; it was a bit closer than the Brecilian Forest. I think; I'm not the best of map readers and distance guessers. As usually my good friend is walking beside me, clinging to my arm like a lifeline. This area is devoid of people, but for some reason, there's a man camped here. He cowers when we approach, but relaxes when we show him we mean no harm.

"You'll have to forgive me if I seem a bit nervous," he laughs. "Not many people travelling in this part of Ferelden. My mule got spooked by a wisp and ran off into the woods." The man sighs dejectedly.

"Why exactly are you here then?" Curiosity killed the cat, they say, but so far my curiosity has actually served me well. It might've been problematic were I a cat. Meow. Oh no!

"I'm waiting for my assistant to... Oh, you mean why I'm in this part of the country?" Bowing dramatically, he says: "Allow me to introduce myself: Felix de Grosbois, merchant and entrepreneur, at your service."

I could really go for some shopping right now. "Got anything to sell me?"

"Well, now that you mention it." The merchant perks up, grinning happily. "I have a control rod, for a golem. There's no point in me keeping it, since I'll never get to use it, but perhaps you could?" He eyes me hopefully.

"Right. What's the catch?" There is always a catch. _Always_. Especially if someone seems to be so eager to be rid of something.

Felix chuckles awkwardly. "Ah, the catch is that the golem didn't come with the rod. It's supposed to be in a village down south, waiting to be activated. Apparently the village is overrun by darkspawn. But that shouldn't be a problem for adventurous types like yourself, surely." When I don't immediately take the bait, he pleads: "Please? I don't want to lug around something that can be mistaken for a gemstone by some bandit. You can have the rod for free; what do you say?"

"A free golem? Sign me up." Golems are powerful, from what I've read. This has to be worth the trouble; if not, I'm going to be very cross.

The control rod is immediately pushed into my hands. "Good! The golem's in a town called Honnleath." I present him my map and the man marks the location. Just below Redcliffe. Where we just came from. Of course. "Just hold up the rod and say " _dulef gar_ ". That should wake it up. Hope it works, best of luck to you, have to go find my mule, goodbye now." And so Felix runs off into the woods. Strange man.

Alistair takes a look at the map. "We are going to have to backtrack for this, aren't we?"

"Yes. But it's a golem, man, a golem! We could really use it." I can't wait to see it.

The Warden scratches his head. "True enough. But what if it doesn't work? We'll have gone there for nothing."

"If it doesn't work, I'm going to find that Felix fellow and ram this up his ass." I inspect the rod; it's quite large, so it should be plenty unpleasant. "And besides, Honnleath is overrun by darkspawn. Maybe we can help any villagers that are still there."

"Time for some righteous Grey Wardening!" Alistair bellows. So off to Honnleath we go.

~*|'-'|*~

As night falls and we set up camp, Jowan suddenly realises he doesn't have his own tent or bedroll. Kind of makes you wonder where he slept when he got out of the tower. I bet Loghain caught him almost as soon as he ran out of the door and has been sleeping in prisons ever since. Well, of course I volunteered to share my tent with him. Leliana shot me a suggestive look and wiggled her eyebrows, but she is right. Apart from the obvious perks (lots and lots of sex), it will also help in keeping warm. Fereldan nights are cold.

So cold, that even close to the fire, I'm shaking like a leaf. I took up first watch, together with Zevran. I'm beginning to warm up to him, although I wish he would take his attempts to bed me elsewhere. "Ah, now I know," the elf suddenly pipes up. "The child, it must be your so-called friend's, Jowan, wasn't it?" His voice sounds triumphant.

"Yes, it's Jowan..."

"Ha! I knew it!" Zevran yells elatedly and jumps up. Some kind of victory dance follows with lots of hip shaking and foreign words I don't understand.

"Calm down." I hold up my hand. "I meant that, yes, you got his name right. But he's not the one who got me pregnant."

"Oh." Obviously disheartened, the assassin slumps down by the fire again. "Damn, I thought I had it."

His pouting face makes me smile. "Nope. And you're never going to guess it anyway. So why not give up?"

"But I really want to know!" He sighs dramatically. "I asked everyone but they wouldn't tell me. And Sten just thought you were fat."

Oh, did he now? I shrug. "It's my business, so it's up to me to tell you, if you make it worth my while. Let's trade, shall we?"

"I could always warm your bed, Warden." He almost purrs those words, accompanies it with a naughty wink. Oh my. I am quite tempted to say, "Yes Zev, please do me." I have the willpower of a potted plant.

I shake my head to clear it of the images of us rolling in the hay. Well, silk sheets actually. "No, nothing like that. I'd just like to touch your ears." For years I've looked jealously at the elegant ears the elves around the tower sported, wishing my own looked just as pretty. Never did I have the guts to ask one if I could touch them.

"My ears...?" The handsome elf eyes me incredulously. "Well, fine then. Go ahead." He moves closer to me and I immediately reach out to trace the outline of his ears. For some reason, he closes his eyes and sighs delightedly. Sensitive? Gah, but these things are awesome. They make me giggle like a little girl. "You know, I can do things with my tongue that would blow your mind..." Zevran suddenly says, his face only inches from mine. He smells like sweet spices. Cinnamon. And those lips! Yummy.

 _No_ , bad! I shuffle back a little. "No doubt you can." I clear my throat. "Well, back at Kinloch Hold I had an affair with a templar. The baby is his."

"A templar?" He chuckles. "Isn't it forbidden for mages and templars to associate like that?"

I shrug. "Isn't it forbidden to kill people? And get paid for it too?"

"True enough," the assassin laughs heartily. "You are full of surprises, dear Warden."

Oh boy, he doesn't even know the half of it.


	86. Road to Honnleath - Snuggle Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first night in a tent together.

### Road to Honnleath - Snuggle Up

In spite of my best efforts to be quiet, Jowan wakes up anyway. He smiles sleepily. "Hey, what took you so long?"

"First watch did, silly." Having thrown my robes off, I crawl into the bedroll and snuggle up to his warm body. Take that, Fereldan cold. His warmth soon chases away the chill that has nestled in my bones. Mmm, nice. "Well, goodnight."

"Oh..." His hand traces the curve of my behind. "Don't you want to...?" His voice trails off as his mouth finds the most sensitive spot in my neck, just where it slopes into my shoulder.

I somehow manage to bite back a moan. "I certainly do now." Quickly I peel off my panties and get onto my back, pulling him onto me. "Take me," I whisper into his ear.

And so he does. As always it feels fantastic, like he was made to fit perfectly in me. Honestly, if I had to spend the rest of my life like this, I would be happy about it. Afterwards he gives me a little peck on the nose and snuggles up to my back. I am content.

"Every time with you is so amazing," he whispers, nuzzling my neck. An arm drapes around my waist to lazily stroke my belly. "You're beautiful, sexy..."

"And _you_ are making me uncomfortable saying all that." I nudge him in the gut with my elbow.

My friend laughs softly. "Why? I'm surprised you don't have several men on each arm. Does nobody ever tell you how lovely you are, how tempting, how..."

"Oh, shut up, you. Don't compliment me too much; I might get too big for my boots, you know?" Still, it makes me feel a little proud of myself.

"I wouldn't worry about that." He squeezes my nipple, making me gasp in surprise. "Maker's breath, you're so reactive. So different from Lily."

Hmm. I was hoping I could distract him from her, but alas. "Why? What was she like?"

"She was very quiet and passive during..." He coughs. "Relations."

His apprehension of calling a spade a spade makes me giggle. "Well, I..." Suddenly my baby stirs in my womb, making Jowan gasp in delight.

"It moved! Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?" Lily seems to be forgotten as he enthusiastically pats my stomach.

I shrug. "Don't know, really. Either is fine. It's all good as long as the child is not tainted."

"Tainted? How so?" he asks curiously.

Oh damn it, me and my big mouth. "Forget I said anything. I'm not supposed to tell."

"Fine, I'll leave you alone." For a while he is silent, content with caressing my belly and placing light kisses along the back of my neck. "Don't you ever wonder about us?" he suddenly asks.

I'd nearly fallen asleep. "Huh? What about us?" I yawn.

"What if we had fallen in love with each other instead of with them?" His voice sounds pensive.

When I turn to face him, his eyes are staring into empty space. "Well, let's see." How would that have been? "We would probably have been making eyes at each other during classes, passing notes and getting sent to Greagoir's office for it." The idea sounds rather appealing. It's true that such unions are generally frowned upon, but at least they're not outright forbidden. "We would hold hands, kiss awkwardly and then that magical first time. Clumsy, but nice."

My friend's mouth stretches into a dreamy smile. "Hmmm." He shakes his head vehemently and then the vacancy in his eyes is gone. "I feel so stupid. You were always there and yet ..."

"You know, someone once told me that if you keep dwelling on what if and what could've been, it will eat away at you. Forget about it, just..." I sigh and grab his hand to press my lips against his knuckles. "This is the way it is now. Nothing will change what we have done."

Jowan nods gravely. "You are right. Let's just go to sleep." His arms wrap around me, pulling me close to his warm body. "Goodnight, Tori."

"Goodnight, Jowse."


	87. Honnleath - A Real Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contrary to what it says, that is _not_ a cat.

### Honnleath - A Real Cat

Honnleath. Darkspawn paradise, more like it. Thankfully there weren't many dead villagers around, so I take it most of them fled. The darkspawn, though many, were easily dispatched; Jowan (equipped with a spare staff I hadn't sold yet) pulled his weight too, flinging spells and bleeding all over the place. I know now where the scars on his hands and forearms come from.

Now that our battle in the village square is done, my friend is poking a dead hurlock with a stick. Obviously he is interested in these creatures he has never seen before.

"Come, let me take a look at your hands." I grab his free wrist and pull up his sleeve to begin cleaning his injuries.

Reflexively he jerks his arm upon feeling the sting of the disinfectant. "Ow! I'm fine, don't worry." Still poking into the corpse, he mutters: "So this is a darkspawn. Fascinating."

"You look pale. Do me a favour and conserve your blood. All right?" A dab of poultice on his cuts and he is good to go.

"I can handle it, really," he says, rolling down his sleeve. His other arm is next; this one looks a bit worse.

I disinfect his wounds and clear away the blood. "I know that, but still. Promise me you will only use blood magic in case of emergency. I didn't just bring you because you're my friend; I also brought you because you are useful. Understood?" There, all done. I look up to find a hurt look in his eyes.

He nods. "Fine, I promise." His injured feelings about my blunt remark are almost palpable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't..." Curse this foot in my mouth. "First and foremost you are my friend. I need you safe, because I care about you." Maker, I can feel the others watching us. They must be speculating about us as we speak. Don't they have anything better to do?

Jowan laughs, the sad look on his face gone. "If you put it like that... Thanks, I appreciate it." Suddenly he squints and stares at something behind me. "Ooh look, I bet that thing over there is your golem!"

"Ooh, my golem. Let's go!" We run over to the statue I see in the distance with arms linked.

"Now children, be careful," Wynne chides as we whizz past her. "Make sure not to trip over any darkspawn."

Alistair catches up with us and grabs my hand. "Wait for me!" He moves with ridiculous ease for someone who is covered by a large amount of metal.

I look to the men on either side of me. Mmm, now that would make for an interesting scenario. I mean the three of us, not just the two of them. Although that might be interesting too. Whew. Is it hot here, or is it just me?

"So..." I remove the control rod from my pack as we stand before the golem. I thought it would be huge, maybe ten feet tall. But I estimate it to be about Sten's height. Strange posture it is in, arms raised as if getting ready to throw something. A fit, maybe. It appears to be as solid as a rock, glittering crystals littered across its surface. Ooh, shiny. "What was the phrase again?"

" _You didn't write it down_?" Alistair frets. "I don't remember either!"

I roll my eyes. "Calm down! It will come to me eventually; something with a g. Or was it a d? Hmmm..."

"Amateurs," Jowan scoffs. He snatches the rod from my hand and holds it up. " _Dulef gar_!" he says with a tone of boyish hopefulness in his voice.

I snap my fingers. "Right! That was it." The golem isn't moving an inch though.

" _Dulef gar_!" my friend repeats, giving the rod a little shake. Still no reaction. "Aww..."

I grumble. So we got duped. "Well, Felix du Grosbois is going to get the beating of his life."

"Oh well." Alistair shrugs. "It happens. Let's look around, shall we? That open door over there is practically begging for us to come in." He points toward something that looks like a gaping maw into darkness. The place is infested with darkspawn; I can feel them from all the way over here. Time for more righteous Grey Wardening.

~*|'-'|*~

After having ploughed through some more darkspawn, we found a group of villagers hiding behind a magic barrier of some kind. They happily ran off into the village after we'd informed them that it is safe once more. All but one: the son of the golem's last owner as it turned out. Introduced himself as Matthias. Apparently some mage named Wilhelm owned and was killed by it. His wife sold the control rod with the wrong phrase. I read about one mage by the name of Wilhelm being involved in King Maric's rebel army. Could it be...? Nah.

As luck would have it, this Matthias knew the right phrase to awaken the golem. But as our shitty luck would have it, he would only give it up if we rescued his daughter. The girl went farther into the cellar, into Wilhelm's laboratory. Everyone he sent after her died. Wonderful! This journey is just full of adventures. Since my heart is set upon having that golem with us, I agreed we would help. And when all is said and done, it simply won't do to leave a little girl to her own devices.

Our trip through the laboratory was uneventful, apart from the few demons that attacked us. And there she is, the little girl. She appears to be talking to a cat. Ooh, a kitty! Stubbs growls at it menacingly; it would appear the legendary hatred between cats and dogs isn't exactly a lie.

"Oh look!" the child says as we approach. "Someone's come to play!"

I crouch so I am at her height. "It's good to see you're safe. Your dad is worried about you, you know. Let's go see him."

"No!" She shakes her head, pigtails swaying. "Kitty can't come and if I leave her, she'd be lonely."

"You are so kind, Amalia. I would miss you dearly if you left." The cat's voice is low and seductive. A speaking cat. With violet eyes. This demon must be in the cutest little vessel I've ever seen.

"What are you really, Kitty?" I ask her, scratching her between the ears.

The cat closes her eyes and purrs in delight. "I am a cat. Really."

"Of course. And I am the empress of Orlais," Jowan light heartedly jokes. But from the iron grip he has on my shoulder, I can tell this demon worries him a little.

"Let's get straight down to business, shall we? What do you want, Kitty?"

Kitty sighs. "I have been bound to this chamber for decades; it's maddening. Release me mortal, and allow me to see the world through the girl's eyes."

How predictable; she wishes to possess Amalia. This is kind of a dilemma. If I tell her no, she will probably be possessed right now and we would have to kill a child. "Fine. What do I have to do?"


	88. Honnleath - Shale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they activate the golem.

### Honnleath - Shale

"I hope you have a good reason for trying to free that demonic cat," Alistair hisses as we are looking at the wards that keep Kitty trapped. It's some kind of puzzle with moving tiles and fire.

I move so close to him that my lips brush his ear with every word I speak, my breasts ever so slightly grazing his arm. "Of course. I'm merely trying to buy time; I have no intention of letting her go."

"Oh, all right." His face is a deep red. Virgins; you have to love them. "Your friend is on a roll there."

It's true. Muttering under his breath, Jowan is busily sliding tiles back and forth. The goal seems to be to make a connection between the starting point and the end. As soon as that is done, a pinkish glow envelops the cat.

"Yes," she mumbles triumphantly. "I can feel the magic fading!" Kitty is nearly moaning with joy. "I had forgotten how it feels to not be caged." Her form flickers between that of the orange cat and a scantily clad female with horns.

"Kitty?" Amalia asks anxiously. "What's happening?" The girl sounds afraid.

"A wonderful thing, my dear, for the both of us!" And with that the cat is no more, a seductive demon in its stead.

"Oh no, I don't think so. Hands off the girl, demon!" I point my staff at her.

Kitty's beautiful face twists into an expression of anger. "Betrayal! The girl is mine!" she roars.

"You're scaring me, Kitty!" Little Amalia is close to tears. "I won't let you inside me, I won't!" The girl runs away, leaving us alone with her former pet. The clatter of weapons being drawn rings in my ears.

~*|'-'|*~

"Exciting, isn't it?" I'm almost bouncing with nerves. Armed with the proper activation phrase, we stand before the golem once more. Matthias was grateful we killed the demon (no mean feat, that) and rescued his daughter, he gave us the code and they ran off. A happy ending, hooray.

"I'm not so sure about this," the other Warden grumbles. His arms are demonstratively folded.

I shrug. "Come on man, live a little. _Dulen harn_!"

For an agonizingly long moment, the golem stays still. But then we hear the sounds of a rockslide and its head moves. It stretches its stone limbs with a loud groan. "I knew someone would eventually find the control rod," it sighs. The voice isn't unpleasant and surprisingly lively for a stone creature. Actually I had not expected a golem to be so eloquent. "And _of course_ is it another mage. That is what it is, yes? Just my luck."

It must be talking about its former master. "Okay well, we can get acquainted on the way. Let's just get out of this place, shall we?"

"It... does have the control rod, doesn't it?" The golem curiously tilts its head, its voice unsure. "I am awake, so it must..."

I show it the item. "Yes, here it is."

"I see the control rod, yet I feel... Go on, order me to do something," it orders me anxiously. Ironic.

I have to order it something really outlandish; my honour commands it. "Do three cartwheels and land on your head!"

"Very cute." The golem makes a sound like a derisive snort. "I feel nothing, no compulsion to carry out its command. I suppose this means the rod is broken?"

Uh oh. "Great, you have free will. Congratulations. Would you like to come with us and rid Ferelden of the darkspawn?" No killing rampages, please. I've seen enough battle for today.

"Hmmm..." It taps its chin in contemplation. "I will follow it about then... for now. I am called Shale, by the way."

"Well Shale, it's a pleasure. My name is Astoreth..." I subsequently introduce everyone else. As we walk the dirt road that leads out of Honnleath, Shale complains about how the villagers treated it and its hatred of birds.

Aw, look at that chicken. It's staring intently at the road we're on; perhaps it is debating with itself whether to cross it? I have to say, I am anxious to get to Orzammar and see what awaits us there. Suddenly a loud thud resounds. I turn around to see the aforementioned chicken turned into a bloody mess of feathers and mangled... stuff, one of Shale's feet covered in gore. It shrugs noncommittally when I lock eyes with it. 

Oh dear. Be afraid, birdlife of Ferelden. Be _very_ afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends this portion of the adventures of Astoreth & co.


	89. Orzammar - Carry Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That big ol' belly is getting in the way; somebody is going to have to carry poor Astoreth.

### Orzammar - Carry Me

"Ugh, I'm so tired," I whine. My feet hurt, my back is sore, my ankles are huge, my breasts swollen, sore and heavy. My bodice doesn't fit anymore, so I had to put on one of my new brassieres. It's almost too supportive. Neither do my robes close; I have to keep the buttons over my belly open and cover the gap with the pretty red scarf I have. I look mad stylish. But damn, this pregnancy is making me sluggish. Not that I have ever been very quick; I was the entire reason it took Duncan and I so long to travel to Ostagar. At first the man urged me to pick up the pace, but eventually he just gave up on me. I am a slowpoke.

Stubbs bumps his head against my hip and whines. Poor thing must be getting sick of all this walking too. Suddenly I see the ground from an entirely different angle, stone pressed against my stomach. Not very comfortable, but it alleviates the aching in my feet. "Maker's mercy, Shale! What are you doing?"

"I will happily carry it if that will free us of its whining," the golem chuckles. "Maybe if it didn't eat so much, it wouldn't be this fat and out of shape." My mabari bounces around us, barking cheerfully. Can't he see my honour is at stake here? Mmm, steak. A big, juicy steak. Still pink in the middle. Lots of gravy, roast potatoes. Yeah. Oh, Shale called me fat. Right.

" _Fat_?" The nerve! "I am _not_ fat, you animated pile of rocks. I'm with child!"

Shale shudders. "With child? So there is _another_ mage on the way? Oh, how marvellous." Its voice is almost dripping with sarcasm. Damn it Wilhelm, you ruined it for all of us!

"What makes you think it will be a mage?" I have to admit that this beats walking, even if I'm rested against something hard and uncomfortable.

"It and the male mage are very close, yes?" Shale nods thoughtfully. "It must have fathered the child."

"Hey!" Jowan protests weakly. "I most certainly did no such thing."

Alistair chuckles in delight. "Yay! At least I'm off the hook."

I look up to find my friend giving the Warden the dirtiest look ever known to man. Alistair clutches his heart and flops onto the ground, dramatically feigning a losing battle with death. After one last ghastly gurgle, he lies perfectly still. Jowan nudges him in the side with his foot. No reaction. "So looks _can_ kill," he says dryly.

Alistair clutches his foot all of a sudden and gives it a sharp yank, making my unfortunate friend collapse onto him with a startled yelp. Although, unfortunate... Mmm, I can just imagine those two ripping the clothes off one another, exposing more and more bare flesh. The Warden covering Jowan's wiry frame with his own beautifully muscular body. Hungry kisses, hands grasping eagerly enough to bruise... Oh my.

"What is it moaning about?" Shale asks curiously, snapping me out of my reverie.

Alistair immediately jumps to his feet, by my side in an instant. He lays his hand on my forehead. "Are you all right? You're burning hot. Hand her over, Shale."

"Very well," the golem says dryly. Effortlessly it grabs me by the collar and dumps me in the handsome young man's arms.

"Don't you worry, little Warden. You're safe with me," he coos.

In the meantime Jowan has joined us as well. "Is it the baby?" he asks in worry, his hand petting my belly.

"No, I suppose I just have a little fever." I snuggle up to Alistair's chest and wink at Jowan. Who smiles knowingly and backs off. I swear, nobody knows me better than he does. But I doubt he knows about my fantasies of him doing unspeakable things with my sexy colleague.

Said colleague softly kisses my cheek. "I'll take good care of you." That smile could just about blind a person.

"You'd have to take your pants off for that," I mumble.

"I'm sorry, what?" Alistair asks, his tone so neutral he could not possibly have heard a word I said.

I close my eyes, conjuring more images of the two men, and smile innocently. "Oh, nothing." Behind me I hear my friend snickering. _He_ heard.

~*|'-'|*~

Poor Alistair. He carried me around for several hours, but eventually he complained of his arms and back aching and had to let me go. For a while Sten took over carrying-the-whiny-pregnant-woman-duty, but eventually had me walk on my own. Wardens should not be pampered like spoiled royalty, he said. How very mean.

So, determined to make it up to my colleague (Sten I will simply get some cookies when we come across a bakery), I crawled into his tent with a vial of oil. Not the lemon one; who knows what will happen when Jowan gets a whiff of that? Hmm, maybe he would mistake Alistair for Lily too... Interesting. Anyway, the lad is going to get a massage whether he wants it or not.

"Astoreth? What are you doing in here?" he asks sleepily when he notices my presence. He winces trying to get up. "Ow, my back."

"I wanted to thank you for carrying me today." I move to sit beside his warm body.

Alistair smiles and pulls the covers over his head. "You're welcome. Goodnight."

"And I wanted to give you a massage, you know, to relieve the pain." And to shamelessly touch you, of course.

The Warden's handsome face peeps out from under his blanket. He looks a bit taken aback, eyebrows knotted together in confusion. But then a tentative smile breaks through. "I'm not going to say no to a nice massage," he says shyly.

"Good. Then turn over." I lay the covers to the side and straddle his midsection when he obediently does as I say. With my hands coated in oil and making sure it doesn't feel cold, I slowly begin kneading the back of his neck. "Boy, you're tense." My hands move down to his shoulders to work out all the knots in his powerful muscles. Under my kneading touch the tenseness slowly turns unto the characteristic firmness I love so well. Hard, but not unyielding. It's been a while since the last time I spent a night cuddled up to him, my head resting against those firm muscles. Like a comfortable pillow. I know I'm going to take my time with this. Hours, preferably. The soft moans that my colleague utters send pangs of lust into my underbelly. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," he pants. "It's really, really nice. You're _good_." How sweet. And I haven't even bedded him yet. His moaning becomes louder as I move my kneading motions lower, onto the small of his back. The area feels strained, ridiculously so. Poor thing; I'm never going to let him carry me again. Inwardly I can't help but giggle. If the others hear the sounds Alistair is making, they are going to assume we are doing some naughty things in here. And although I certainly wouldn't mind it being true, I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. The poor thing's name would get dragged through the mud. Sadly I'm done here. With this part, that is.

"I'm going to do your arms too, but you'll have to turn over. Okay?" I get off him.

He makes a hesitant sound. "Uhm, no, that's all right. Thank you." His voice sounds very embarrassed. Why...? _Oh_.

"I insist. Pretty please?" I squeeze his cheek as if he's a little boy. In some ways he seems like one.

"Oh, all right," he gives in. His face is flushed as he positions himself onto his back. The redness creeps all the way down his neck when I straddle his waist, my bum resting on a particularly rigid object. Now, I know I could verbally tease him about it, but instead I'm going to be a real bitch and tease him another way. Face trained into an innocent look, I wriggle to get more comfortable. A tiny whimper escapes my poor victim's throat. Ah, virgins.

I grab the vial of oil, leaning deeper into his crotch. Again he vocalizes his discomfort. Now I'm just being mean; if I go on like this much longer, the poor thing's head is going to explode. Enough teasing for now. With the supply of oil on my hands replenished, I grip his left arm to massage it. I start at the wrist, digging my thumbs into his flesh in circular motions. Daniela taught me how to give a proper massage; unfortunately I never got the chance to give Cullen one.

Well, that's it. I'm done; I rubbed his arms and back as well as I could. "There you go. Goodnight." When I move away, a strong hand closes around my wrist.

"Wait," he whispers hoarsely. "You're not done yet."


	90. Orzammar - The Cramp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That massage is going further than Astoreth was planning to take it.

### Orzammar - The Cramp

I blink a few times. "Say what?" Well, this sudden initiative is very... exciting.

"I've got a cramp in my chest." His face contorts into an expression of pain. Either he's become a very good actor overnight, or it's real. "Please help me."

"Of course, of course," I shush him. I apply another coat of oil to my hands and lay them on his chest. His heartbeat is rapid, his skin searing hot to the touch. Judging from his pulsating erection under my behind, he must feel the same way I do. Really fucking horny. My hands automatically go through the kneading and squeezing. This wonderful creature is incredibly firm, beautiful. And so _fuckable_.

Alistair's eyes are half-closed, low moans coming from between his parted lips. He takes in a sharp breath as my hands brush his nipples. Huh. I had no idea they were sensitive on men too. This will go into my collection of mental notes. All uncovered parts of his skin are slick and shiny with oil at the end of my treatment. I could just stare at that for hours.

"Better?" I rest my hand on his heart. His pulse is slow now.

My sexy companion folds his hands behind his head, puffing out his chest. As if the thing's not broad enough already. "Yes. I feel so... relaxed," he drawls. "Thank you." His eyelids flutter, then fall shut.

"You're welcome. Goodnight." I bend down to kiss the corner of his mouth, but receive no answer. My massage has been very effective; sweet little Alistair is sleeping. I slide back a little to lay my hand upon his erection and squeeze it. So hard. Curse my conscience! If I didn't have it, I'd be on his pole right now, sleeping virgin or not. Ah well.

I nearly bump into Zevran as I exit the tent. From the grin on his face I can tell some lovely suggestive comments will be coming my way. "What, pray tell, were you doing in there with your fellow Warden?" He winks.

"That's none of your business, Zev." I know that will only make it worse, but it _isn't_ his business.

The elf folds his arms before his chest and chuckles. "Perhaps I should go in and ask him myself then?"

"Don't bother; he's sleeping." Oh, snap. What do men often do after the act? Sleep. I feel the strong urge to slap my palm against my forehead.

Zevran utters a hearty laugh. "So, Jowan _and_ Alistair? You little minx." His lips curve into a satisfied smirk upon seeing my blank look. "I am on to you, you know."

Oops, time to change the subject. "All right, fine. I was giving Alistair a massage."

"Oh, a massage?" the elf purrs, wrapping an arm around my waist to draw me closer to him. "I would fancy one as well. Perhaps with a happy ending."

"A happy ending?" I frown. "What does that mean?" Maker's breath! His body is so warm, his scent so inviting. First a handsome warrior moaning under my touch, now a pretty elf trying to seduce me. Happy day; I feel so popular. All I need now is a steamy bathing scene with another woman and all will be complete. Though I did have one with Morrigan a long time ago, I don't know if it's steamy enough. Still, I think I would have to be quite desperate or drunk before I jump into Zev's bedroll. He's too easy and that is no fun.

His eyebrows raise quizzically. "You have no idea what a happy ending is? Then allow me to enlighten you..." His lips touch my ear with every whispered word he speaks. The explanation of the term nearly melts my skin away; such a sexy idea. So, a massage followed by a manually induced orgasm for the recipient. Mmm. If I could give Alistair one, I would be a happy little bunny. "How about it, Warden?" the elf finishes my enlightenment. "Poor Zevran could use some love right now."

So could I, and yay for me, I luckily already have someone who provides me with that. "I'm sorry, my friend, I'm afraid it will only be you and your hand tonight." I quickly scramble from his grasp, no doubt leaving behind a very frustrated assassin. Astoreth, you _bitch_.

~*|'-'|*~

"You really like him, don't you?" Jowan asks as I'm nestled safely in his arms after another spectacular round of lovemaking.

"Hmm? If you mean your penis, then yes. Very much." I briefly play with the now limp little worm.

He laughs. "I'm not talking about that. I heard some interesting sounds coming from a certain Warden's tent."

"Alistair's moaning? Yeah, I was giving him a massage." I cough. "Because, you know, he was in pain from carrying me for so long."

Jowan runs a hand through my hair. "And because you wanted to feel some _manly muscle_ under your hands, I bet." He chuckles. "So, a massage, huh? When am I going to get one of those?"

"Why would you want a massage if you can have me instead?" I place his one hand on my breast, the other on my bum. "It's equally relaxing and so much more fun for all involved."

"True enough." My friend smiles and softly kisses my lips. "You never answered my question though."

Question? " _Oh_. Of course I do. He's nice." I snuggle up a little closer. "You think so too, don't you?"

"Sure. And not to mention good-looking," my friend says suggestively.

My imaginings earlier today come back full force. Mmm. "So... you think he's handsome too, do you?"

"I... What are you getting at?" He eyes me with both curiosity and a hint of worry.

"Heh, I was fantasizing about you two. You know, kissing, touching..." I sigh. I would just love to see such a thing.

Jowan makes a gagging noise. "Oh, no. No, no, no! I've never been with a man and I'm not planning on starting that now." He sounds thoroughly disgusted.

Aww... I make a popping noise with my mouth.

"What was that?" He looks around, puzzled.

I put on my biggest, fakest pout. "That was my bubble. Meanie."

"Right." He chuckles and plants a kiss atop my head. "Goodnight, you little pervert."

"Yes, goodnight." Sniffle. "Meanie."


	91. Orzammar - Stain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our fearless adventurers have arrived in Orzammar.

### Orzammar - Stain

Here we are, the gates to Orzammar. I do wonder what we will find. On the way we kept running into a dwarven merchant who would only say that the city was closed off. More information he refused to give. We were attacked yet again by a bunch of mercenaries, as soon as we set foot in the Frostback Mountains. They said Loghain sent his regards. I wonder why he keeps trying. Surely he must've become hip to the fact that his hirelings never report any success. The man must really be hoping we will slip up at some point. As if that will ever happen. Keep them coming, I say; my purse is jingling with all the coins their sellable wares fetch us.

The area is bustling with merchants, both human and dwarven. The guard at the gate is quarrelling with a few humans who probably wish to gain entry. Oh, so Loghain is king now? Great. And this whiny fellow is his messenger. His _appointed_ messenger, even. How fancy.

"So, what's going on here?"

The guard turns to us, obviously happy for the break. "Our king is dead," he answers my question. "The Assembly has gone through a dozen votes without agreeing on a successor. If it is not settled soon, we risk a civil war."

So there is something going on here as well. Big surprise. It's like a bloody tale from a children's book. I hand the guard the appropriate treaty. "The Grey Wardens need their dwarven allies."

"The Grey Wardens killed King Cailan and nearly doomed Ferelden!" the messenger steams as soon as he hears who we are. "They're sworn enemies of King Loghain!"

The dwarf looks at the treaty. "Well, that is the royal seal. That means only the Assembly is authorized to address it." He hands me back the paper. "Grey Warden, you may pass."

That was easy. But the messenger doesn't agree, naturally. "You're letting in a traitor? In the name of King Loghain I demand that you execute this... stain on the honour of Ferelden!" he declares haughtily.

"Stain on the honour of Ferelden? Me?" The idea makes me laugh. "Are _you_ the poster boy of proper Fereldan honour now, Ser Fancypants, _appointed messenger_ of King Loghain? Run back to your master, like the good dog that you are."

The man's face turns an attractive shade of red. "How dare you..."

"Leave." A yet of flame shoots from my hands, no doubt making his left ear uncomfortably hot. "Or leave like a smouldering pile of bones. Your choice." My by now well-used middle fingers get into that ancient insulting position. The messenger's eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline and he quickly turns on his heel to march away. "Come on guys, let's go in." I lead the way.

"Such conduct is highly unbecoming for a young lady, Astoreth," Wynne says with a stern look of disapproval as we take our first steps into Orzammar.

I shrug. "Yes, well, I'm a Grey Warden, dear Wynne. Not a lady. So _fuck_ proper conduct." I will act as unbecomingly as I bloody want to.

The old lady shakes her head and sighs, wisely electing to keep quiet. It's about time she began to learn not to harass me with that etiquette bullshit.

~*|'-'|*~

To keep a long story short: King Endrin Aeducan has bitten the big one and there are two contenders for his throne. The Assembly gets to vote who they want as their king, as opposed to the human way of a royal family. We got our faces rubbed into the severity of the situation as soon as we entered the Orzammar Commons and witnessed two dwarves quarrelling about the throne, and then a fight breaking out where one man killed another by nearly chopping him in two. One of the candidates is prince Bhelen, the king's youngest son. I heard some nasty stories about him; it is said that he murdered his oldest brother and let the middle child take the blame for it. Although it may not be so simple, there's no smoke without fire.

The other candidate is a Lord Harrowmont, who claims that the king didn't want Bhelen on his throne. I guess I can see why. So, apparently our order (all two of us) is supposed to help the Assembly make up their damned minds. Honestly I wish they had done so before we got here.

It is good to see that for once Jowan isn't latched onto my arm, but looking around in awe, listening breathlessly to Leliana's stories about great dwarven halls carved from stone. I love how warm this place is; must be all the lava. With me being such a clumsy fool, I'll just keep a safe distance.

Off my left I hear a sad whine. Would you look at that? Stubbs is panting ferociously, obviously not used to the heat. Poor boy. I get my waterskin from my pack. "Would you like a drink, boy?" His ears immediately prick up and he barks. Quickly I take off the top. "Tilt back your head and open wide." Smart hound immediately does as I say and allows me to pour water down his mouth. "There. Better?" He barks his typical confirmation and licks my hand in gratitude. Yuck, dog drool. Thankfully his panting has become more normal. Onto matters at hand. "So, who do you think we should support: Bhelen or Harrowmont?" I ask my fellow Warden.

Alistair makes a thoughtful noise. "I don't know... The guy who killed his brother, or the king's closest and most trusted advisor?"

"Oh, very funny." I stick out my tongue. "I'm more in favour of Harrowmont as well. So I guess we should find him and see what we need to do."

~*|'-'|*~

Oh boy. We sure had our work cut out for us. At first we needed to gain the man's trust, so we had to fight a few Provings in his name and honour. Suffice it to say that we came, we saw, we kicked some serious ass.

Wiping out the crime organization in Dust Town proved a tad more difficult. It's such a desolate place, filled with casteless dwarves. Apparently they are the lowest of the lowest, worth even less than those funny-looking naked rabbits here, nugs. There was some clandestine prostitute, who charged a ridiculously low price for her services. Even if we all wanted to bang her at once, it would've been cheaper than a mug of ale. Imagine how desperate this woman must be. Casteless even have their faces tattooed as babies so everyone can see their station in life. Ugh, I wouldn't be able to live like that. Leliana says she wants a nug as a pet. There was this guy in the Commons who would pay me if I'd catch some and bring them to him. These aren't suitable as pets, I think. My hands are littered with nug bites. And that shit _stings_.

But I'm digressing again. The crime lord, or rather crime lady, was called Jarvia. We had to plough through a whole bunch of her henchmen to get to her. Even if I'd wanted to spare the woman, it was impossible. Crazy woman wanted to kill us all, except for "the pretty one" because she apparently had plans for her. Not quite sure who she meant by that. After a particularly nasty fight (that earned me a few more nicks in my robes and some fresh wounds) we were victorious. Naturally, or I wouldn't have been alive to say this. This is Astoreth speaking from beyond the grave, wooo... Anyway, Harrowmont took the credit and this greatly increased his support. Yay for him.

Of course our tasks weren't over with that. Now we are to find some Paragon lady who vanished into the Deep Roads about two years ago, to have her vote for Harrowmont. That would override the vote of the entire Assembly. But the _Deep Roads_ , for crying out loud. How would anyone be able to survive there? For two years even! It's full of darkspawn, giant spiders and Maker knows what else. Joy of joys. First though, I'd better go and hand in those nugs. They might not be in mint condition anymore by the time we're done in the Deep Roads.


	92. Orzammar - Nugs, Nugs, Nugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth buys some nugs.

### Orzammar - Nugs, Nugs, Nugs

"Here are the nugs you wanted." I hand the nug-wrangler his prize. I think I got about six of the critters.

"Ah, thank you." He gives them a satisfied look and hands me some coins. "Here is the money I promised you."

I wave my hand. "Keep it, I've got more than enough." And that's after I bought a round for all in Tapster's Tavern. "Do you know where I could get a nug that is suitable as a pet? My friend would like one." It's going to be a surprise for Leliana. The others are waiting by the entrance to the Deep Roads, leaving me to do my thing.

The nug-wrangler makes a thoughtful sound. "I know of a dwarf in Dust Town who knows where to catch nice, healthy nugs. Try him."

"Great, thanks. What's his name?" Oh, Leliana's going to be so pleased!

He shrugs. "I don't know, really. We all refer to him as 'the idle dwarf' because he only seems to be sitting around."

"What? The beggars aren't very active either, so how am I supposed to know which one this idle dwarf is?"

The wrangler sighs. "Just look for the duster who's always half asleep and doesn't beg for money. And when in doubt, you can always press tab to highlight any names and points of interest."

Tab? Highlight names? Huh? "Say what now? You lost me."

"Oh no! This happens every time." He smacks his forehead. "Forget what I just said. It's the one who doesn't bother you when you walk by. Or ask Nadezda, the woman knows everything."

I slowly back away. "Great, thanks." This guy probably doesn't have his head screwed on right. Nutter.

~*|'-'|*~

"Yeah, I can get you a nug," the dwarf lazily picking his nose says. "What's in it for me?"

On the way to Dust Town a plan hatched in my mind. "I'd actually like two. Two sovereigns for the both of them. How's that sound?"

"Two sovereigns? I can get you nice big ones for that. I will be back later." And so he slings a duffel bag over his shoulder to get me a pair of adorable nugs.

See, my plan was to get one for Cullen. I know, I know, he's not my lover anymore, but I figured caring for a pet might distract him from what happened to him. The torture those demons and blood mages put him through could seriously damage him, drive the man completely insane. I probably need to ask Greagoir for permission, but I've learned to be very persuasive over the course of our travels. After all, he wouldn't want one of his templars to start beheading mages left and right, now would he? Of course he wouldn't.

"Here you are." The so-called idle dwarf hands me a duffel bag. Whoa, that was quick. I drop two gold coins in his extended hand. "You're very generous. Thank you." He gets back to his old place, looking as bored as ever.

"Thanks for the nugs. Goodbye." Oh, just look at them, so plump and adorable and sweet. A cross between a rabbit and a pig. All they need is a nice satin ribbon around their necks and they'll be just perfect. Leliana is going to love hers.

~*|'-'|*~

As I walk up to the others, waiting with the men who guard the entrance to the Deep Roads, a powerful-looking (and smelling too, phew) dwarf with hair as red as summer strawberries approaches me. I noticed him before in the Diamond Quarter, Orzammar's rich neighbourhood. He was quarrelling with another dwarf. Apparently the Paragon was married to this stinky fellow. Took her entire house with her, except for him. The stench must've done it.

"Stranger!" he yells, his voice drunken. "Have you seen a Grey Warden hereabouts? I heard..."

"Yes, yes, that's me," I cut him off. "Something you need?"

The dwarf chuckles. I'm sure he meant nothing by it, but it sounded very lewd somehow. "Name's Oghren," he introduces himself. "If you've ever heard of me before, it's probably all been about how I piss ale and kill little boys who look at me wrong." Oghren laughs to himself.

Okay... Mental note: do not let this one near little boys. "Great. What exactly do you want?"

"If you're looking for Branka, I know what she was looking for and how she was looking. You," here his vivid green eyes give my entire length a good sweep, "presumably know everything Harrowmont's scouts have discovered about where she disappeared. If we don't pool our knowledge, good sodding luck finding her."

Maker's breath, the smell is going to kill me! What is that, fetid ale and week-old sweat or something? _Disgusting_. But we do need all the help we can get. The sooner we find this woman and secure aid from the dwarves, the better. "You're on, welcome aboard."

As everyone introduces themselves, I notice their voices sound choked and they are holding their noses. This is going to be one fragrant trip. Even the nugs smell it, squirming madly in their temporary living quarters. Poor little darlings.


	93. The Deep Roads - Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Jowan, _this_ is dinner.

### The Deep Roads - Dinner

Huh. So, these are the Deep Roads, where I will be going thirty years or so from now to fight darkspawn until they overwhelm me. It's dark here, only sparsely illuminated by torches on the walls. My darkspawn senses aretingling like mad. We've been walking around for hours, guided by Oghren. First to Aeducan Thaig, just because we could. Earned us some nice loot; Shale has bags of discarded, but still useful weapons and armour slung over its shoulders and arms. Ah, where would I be without the golem?

This thaig was crawling with creepy, long-necked beasts that were out to get us. Deepstalkers. We were swarmed by so many of them I actually stuffed a corpse down my pack when nobody was looking; we don't have any meat and I read somewhere that dwarves eat them too. So why shouldn't we, right? What you don't know...

After we'd passed Caridin's Cross (where we were attacked by some of Bhelen's hired thugs; bloody idiots) Oghren recognized the way to Ortan Thaig. Apparently nobody's been there for centuries. Branka was looking for something called the Anvil of the Void, an invention of a Caridin. This Paragon developed an anvil on which golems could be forged and so brought on a hundred years of peace for Orzammar. It was lost eventually and Branka wanted it back.

Oghren's been eyeing my stomach curiously for a while now. "So, got a bun in the oven huh?" He pats it appraisingly. "Looks pretty far along."

"Yes? How long do you reckon?" Because frankly, I don't have a bloody clue. All I know is that it's pretty damned inconvenient.

Oghren scoffs. "How am I supposed to know that, Warden? I know sod all about children."

"Judging by your size, dear, I think that baby has been growing for six or seven months," Wynne interjects sagely.

How time flies. "Only a little while longer until I give birth, then." I wince. "It's going to hurt, isn't it?"

The old lady nods, her expression grave. "It will probably be the worst pain you've ever felt."

"You say that as if you've been through it yourself." Imagine that, Wynne having a child. I didn't know she was married. Then again, neither am I and that doesn't stop my baby from coming into the world.

A sad smile appears on the woman's face. "Yes. I imagine my son would have grown up to be someone like Alistair." She looks at him affectionately. Those two have been so close, like mother and son almost. He even got her to mend his shirts for him.

"Oh?" The Warden turns in her direction. "I thought you said you were never married."

Wynne chuckles briefly. "That's true. I never have been."

The cogs in Alistair's head appear to be clicking industriously as he is visibly pondering how on earth the woman could've had a child then.

"You don't need to be in wedlock for that." I know all about it. Dumb girl. "Anyway, can we take a rest when we find a suitable spot? I don't know about you guys, but my legs are about to fall off anytime now."

My proposal is met with general support, along with the suggestion we might as well set up for the night. It's hard to tell what time of day it is with all this rock above our heads, but we've been walking around for hours and everybody is pretty much tuckered out.

I firmly clap Jowan on the shoulder. "Guess what, buddy?"

"I don't know, what?" He eyes me expectantly.

"You're helping me with dinner tonight!" I'm sure that wasn't the kind of surprise he was hoping for.

His face immediately takes on a sour expression. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. Yes, you have to."

~*|'-'|*~

"You must be joking!" Jowan screams when I pull the dead deepstalker from my pack. "Is _this_ dinner?"

The others are a good distance away from us, since I convinced them I was preparing a special surprise meal. Special isn't necessarily a good thing. "Will you be quiet?" I hand him a knife. "Just cut it up into unrecognisable pieces. We need meat and I didn't have any jerky or anything." Our trusty cauldron is already on the fire, waiting for its contents.

"Fine." He sighs and starts with separating the neck from the body. Sure, leave me with the guts, why won't you? "And if anyone wants to know what it is?"

I eviscerate the unfortunate dead animal, cut off skin and limbs. "Do what you do well: lie about it." There, nice portions of meat. Could be any kind, really. I dump the discarded bits into a shallow dent in the ground, covering them with a large rock. Nobody must know.

"No need to get all catty. Is something wrong?" The long neck is also stripped of skin and chopped into rough chunks. No need to take out the bone; it adds flavour.

Sigh. "No, not really. Sorry. I'm just cranky because I'm uncomfortable."

"Hmm." Jowan dumps his chunks of meat into the pot; they begin sizzling immediately. A nice smell emanates from inside the cauldron. Unceremoniously he wipes his hands on his robes. "Is there anything I can do?" he whispers into my ear, pressing his chest firmly against my back, wrapping his arms around my waist. My belly is so large and round his hands can barely meet.

"No, I don't think so." All other ingredients go into the pot with the meat, and I'm trying very hard not to get distracted from stirring into the stew as his lips touch that sensitive spot on my neck. I was doing a fine job until his hand slipped into my robes to gently massage my breast. "Ow!" My nipple is quite tender; squeezing it wasn't a good idea.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to hurt you. I'll just..." His fingers abandon my sore spots to continue their gentle kneading, his other hand disappearing behind the slit in my robe. I begin moaning when his fingers slowly rub all kinds of sensitive places right through the fabric of my panties. Come to think of it, I haven't had an orgasm in a while. Usually we just crawl into our bedroll, have some sex and almost immediately fall asleep. Focus, woman! Stop stirring and the stew will burn. "I haven't really pleased you in such a long time," my friend mutters, his voice low with desire. "No wonder you're like this. I've not been taking care of you as I should."

"As you should?" I manage to bite back a particularly loud moan. "Jowse, we're not married or anything. You don't have any such obligations towards me."

He kisses me lightly just below my right ear. "I know. But I still owe you."

"Nonsense, you don't..." That incredibly strange feeling suddenly alerts me. "Look busy, Alistair is coming."

Jowan detaches himself from me with great haste. "Here, let me stir that."

Soon Alistair is with us, but he is not alone: a certain elf is dragging him along. "Is _this_ what you dragged me here for?" the former asks Zevran in exasperation. "To see the two of them making dinner? I'm shocked out of my wits."

"I... But I saw them!" the assassin twitters. "Both his hands were down her robes, I saw it. You owe me three sovereigns!"

The Warden shakes his head. "You could be making that up for all I know. I'll believe my own eyes." He sniffs, nostrils flaring. "Ooh, that smells nice! What's in it?"

"Chicken!" Jowan answers without flinching. "Will you tell the others it's almost time for dinner?"

Alistair nods and trots away to deliver the message. Zevran stays behind, glaring at me angrily.

"Zevran Arainai, were you spying on us?" I click my tongue in mock annoyance. "Taking bets on us, even? How dare you."

The handsome elf narrows his eyes. "Oh, you are good, Warden." He wags his finger at me. "But I will get you one day, I promise you that!"

"Why do you care about three lousy sovereigns?" The other mage rolls his eyes. "If you need any money, just ask Astoreth for it."

"It is not about the money, my lucky friend," Zevran replies. "It is simply about the joy of being right."

A matter of principle, is it? "Good luck with that." I wink. "You'd best open your entire bag of tricks to catch _me_ in the act."

" _Us_ , you mean." Jowan grins and blows me a kiss. Aww.

Zevran looks at us both in turn and growls, rather enticingly I might add. "Oh, it is _on_ now!"


	94. The Deep Roads - Hespith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not the best poetry you'll ever come across.

### The Deep Roads - Hespith

As we make our way through Ortan Thaig I can barely keep my eyes open. It is all Jowan's fault. He insisted he should please me. Which he certainly did: using fingers and tongue he made me come about ten times in a row. And then I lost count. Maker's breath. Not even once did he put his cock in me, devoted to what he apparently thinks is his job.

It gives me somewhat of an uneasy feeling. The constant compliments (telling me how sweet, beautiful and perfect he thinks I am) make me fear his feelings towards me encompass more than only friendship and lust, flattering though they may be. The worst thing is that I might feel the same. Life is complicated; I was rather stupid to think that he and I sharing a bed would change nothing. Still, if he's not going to say anything, neither am I.

"Long night, Warden?" Zevran asks mischievously.

I yawn, opening my mouth wide. "The darkspawn keep me awake. Annoying buggers."

"Of course, _darkspawn_." The elf scoffs and pulls his pretty face into a nasty scowl. Well, _someone_ got out of bed on the wrong side today. He angrily kicks his feet and grumbles Antivan phrases under his breath. Something tells me those aren't compliments.

A little while ago we ran into an old campsite of Branka's, as recognized by Oghren, now inhabited by an insane dwarf. In order to survive here, this Ruck had been eating darkspawn meat. It taints you and the darkspawn then leave you alone. Apparently he got lost after an expedition into the Deep Roads years ago.

This place is crazy: enormous spiders, darkspawn in all kinds of flavours, spirits even. Dwarves don't believe in the Maker (though one of them is trying to set up a Chantry in the Commons) and can't go to the Fade naturally. Not that they can't go at all, they just need some help getting there. Don't ask me how, I must've missed that class.

I think I see something. A whole bunch of stuff, on and around a table.

"That must be Branka's," Oghren says hopefully. Despite his rather crude ways, I get the strong feeling that he still loves the woman very much. At least he speaks of his former wife quite affectionately. Maybe he has a more tender side somewhere. It gives me hope to know that burly warriors are capable of such emotion.

A loud skittering noise tells me we won't be able to search the items for clues undisturbed and yes, here they are. More giant spiders. Lovely.

~*|'-'|*~

Andraste's mercy, these Deep Roads are vast. According to the journal we found in Ortan Thaig, Branka and her house went to the Dead Trenches. Upon seeing his name mentioned, Oghren even had to secretly blink away a tear. So secretly I'm not even sure if I saw it right. I'm beginning to like that smelly little rascal. Also, there were some interesting sketches in Branka's journal. One of them looked like some pillar that apparently vibrates. What's it for, I wonder? The sketch said nothing about dimensions; maybe it's some kind of massive tool to grind stone into powder, or what have you. Still, I will ask her about it if we find her. When we find her, I mean. Have to stay positive.

The Dead Trenches are apparently where the darkspawn population thrives; in other places they have to battle for dominance with other species, like the spiders. If it weren't for the darkspawn, this place wouldn't make for bad living. Well, maybe if someone would come around to do some repairs. But still, it's got bridges, buildings, the lot.

A bunch of heavily armoured dwarves is fighting a bunch of darkspawn. Time to join the fray.

~*|'-'|*~

I guess fighting the darkspawn isn't only a Grey Warden thing. The Legion of the Dead is also dedicated to killing them and keeping them here. Maybe we should help them if there isn't a Blight; I mean, we wouldn't have much to do if there were hardly any darkspawn on the surface. The way it is now though, we're plenty occupied. Heh, the Kardol fellow who leads them wouldn't even believe me when I told him about the Blight. Then I pointed into the chasm and he saw the ginormous army of darkspawn. No doubt they are marching for the surface. We surely have our work cut out for us. And the archdemon came along too, flying over our heads with a menacing roar. Dragons. Boo.

Oh yuck, what is _this_? Not only infestations of darkspawn, among which ogres, but also disgusting fleshy sacks hanging from the walls. Reminds me of the tower; the same gory crap was everywhere. "No Jowan, don't poke into those things." Who knows what it will do to his staff? Wow, that sounded dirty. The only way I could've made that worse is if I'd called it a magic wand.

He gives me a rueful look and ceases his poking. "Okay. I was just curious."

" _First day, they come and catch everyone_ ," a female voice suddenly drones.

Stubbs barks and begins looking around nervously. I do the same (minus the barking), scratching my mabari between the ears to calm him, but see nobody. "Where's that coming from?"

A little farther ahead, the same voice. " _Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat._ " Eerie. If we continue on, we will surely run into the speaker.

" _Third day, the men are all gnawed on again._ " We seem to be coming closer.

"I don't suppose you happen to be a ventriloquist, Leliana?" Alistair asks hopefully. It would seem I am not the only one thoroughly creeped out by these rhymes. The bard shakes her head, an uncomfortable expression on her pretty face.

A shudder comes over me when I hear the next phrase. " _Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate._ " What is this about? It gives me such an uneasy feeling. As if we're about to run into something terrible. Not that I had expected anything else.

" _Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn._ " Turn for what? The amount of flesh on the walls also seems to be increasing. I've got stuff stuck to my boots I don't even want to think about. Ieh.

" _Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams._ " Oghren hums thoughtfully. "That's pretty unnerving, to say the least," he says dryly. Sten nods his agreement, quiet as always.

The woman's voice has become louder. " _Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew._ " Morrigan's face takes on a disgusted expression. "Oh, how _vile_!" She shudders furiously.

And louder still, the farther we go. " _Eighth day, we hated as she is violated._ " Yep, anytime now. Anytime we will come upon something abominable.

" _Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin._ " Cannibalism now too? And here is the kicker: " _Now she does feast, as she's become the beast._ " Maker.

Finally we enter a small room, littered with the dead. In the middle stands a dwarven woman, clad in a tattered dress. "First day, they come and catch everyone," she mutters. So _this_ is the one who's been sending chills down our spines.

"Hey, lady?" I tap her on the shoulder, she turns around quickly. The woman is pale, and tainted with darkspawn corruption. At least, that's what I think those black spots on her skin are.

"What is this?" She looks at me, head cocked sideways. "A human? Bland and unlikely."

Oghren stands beside me to stare at her. "I know this one. Hespith." From the bitter sound of his voice, I can tell he isn't very fond of her.

"Hespith, what're those rhymes about?" Those creepy, creepy rhymes.

The dwarven woman cringes. "It's what I've seen, what I will become. All I could do was wish Laryn went first. I wished it upon her so that I would be spared," she babbles frantically. "But I had to watch. I had to see the change. How do you endure that? How did Branka endure?"

"Endure what? What change?" And most importantly: "Where _is_ Branka?"

"D-do not speak of Branka, of what she did." Her voice quivers with fear. "I was her captain, and I didn't stop her. Her lover, and I could not turn her. Forgive her... but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she has become."

So that's why Oghren dislikes her: she wooed Branka away from him. Even before I can open my mouth, he asks urgently: "Where is Branka, woman? What in the sodding Stone did she do?"

" _I will not speak of her, of what she did_!" she screams with sudden vehemence. "I will not become what I have seen, not Laryn, not Branka!" And so Hespith runs away, leaving behind a confused and unnerved group of adventurers. We have no choice to but to go on and follow her.

Zevran runs a hand through his hair, undoing one of his usually so meticulously fastened braids. "I do not like where this is going." He smiles nervously when I tuck the loose strands behind his ear.

"None of us do, painted elf," Shale grumbles. It has the funny habit of addressing people by a description, rather than their name.

"Yes, well, who wants to live forever, right?" I gesture ahead. "Let's just move on."


	95. The Deep Roads - Broodmother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you all know what happens here.

### The Deep Roads - Broodmother

Soon we came across a door that led to a formation of natural hallways. With every step we took, the presence of darkspawn became stronger. Hespith's voice was always just ahead, regaling us with tales of unspeakable terror: " _She became obsessed, that is the word but it is not strong enough. Blessed Stone, there was nothing left in her but the Anvil. We tried to escape, but they found us. They took us all, turned us. The men, they kill... they're merciful. The women they want, to touch, to mold, to change until you are filled with them. They took Laryn_ _. They made her eat the others, our friends. She tore off her husband's face and drank his blood._ "

Her words made me feel cold, like icy fingers caressing my spine. Not just because of the words themselves, but because of the meaning behind them. Those poor women at Ostagar. " _And while she ate, she grew. She swelled and turned grey and she smelled like them. They remade her in their image. Then she made more of them. Broodmother..._ "

A large cave, and there in the middle, the horror I had been expecting all along. Although it is not exactly what I had expected. It's worse. Some... creature, all wobbly, greasy flesh; tiny, four-fingered hands attached to large, flabby arms; a red beak; not one, not two, but five pairs of sagging breasts; tentacles everywhere. It is surrounded by those vile growths. Ugh. My stomach is churning, but somehow I manage not to lose my dinner. All around me the others utter cries of revulsion and disgust. Jowan takes it a step further and promptly vomits. Onto _my_ boots. I guess that will have to wait until after we've killed this thing.

~*|'-'|*~

Well, that was difficult. One would think a creature that is apparently rooted to the spot would be easier to kill, but those tentacles reach very far. And then there were those darkspawn that kept popping up all the time. Ah well, at least it's over now. Some cuts, some bruises, Alistair nearly died again (I swear, he's so lucky we have Wynne with us), but now we're surrounded by bloody darkspawn corpses and one very dead broodmother. That's what Hespith called it anyway. I wonder if there are any broodfathers? How would they... I better stop this chain of thought before I start blowing chunks of deepstalker all over the place.

You know, I love Alistair to bits and everything, and his templar skills are very useful. But sometimes he bloody sabotages _me_. Or Wynne, or Morrigan, or Jowan. Fool doesn't realize that it doesn't only work on hostile mages, but on all mages. I cannot immediately replace the glyph he just dispelled. Argh! I swear, if he does it one more time I'm going to shove my staff up his ass until it comes out the other end.

In any case, after all this crap we certainly need a rest. We deserve it. The only way to continue was straight ahead, and so we made our way to a different part of the Deep Roads. Not even Oghren with his fabled Stone sense had any idea where exactly we would end up, but no doubt Branka had travelled the same route.

So now Wynne is carefully bandaging the wound I sustained from the blow of a hurlock's spiked mace. It actually broke my upper arm, which I didn't notice until afterwards because I was pumped with adrenaline. The pain nearly knocked me out, but our healer did a great job. The fracture is healed and all that remains is a dull throbbing sensation. It's not completely fixed, but I can use it at least.

The others are sitting around half passed out from fatigue. Leliana is languidly playing with the nug I got her. The girl squealed in joy when I gave it to her, hugging it tightly. She called it Schmooples. Personally I think Schmoopie wouldn't been cuter. The one for Cullen is staying with me. Its name is Nugget. Appropriate, no? At first I was afraid Stubbs would try to eat it, but so far he's only sniffed it and given it a big lick across the face. I think he likes it.

Jowan is furiously scrubbing his vomit off my boots, strands of hair constantly falling in his eyes. A haircut would do him some good, or something to tie that mess back. It's getting very long. Pretty though; I like running my fingers through it while we make love. But not tonight; I need some sleep.

"Here, all clean." He hands me the footwear after a careful inspection. "How is your arm?"

I pull on my boots. "Better. Thanks, Wynne." The old lady smiles kindly in response and walks away to tend to the others, leaving my dear friend and me alone. "Maker's breath, I'm knackered."

"So none for me before we go to sleep?" The other mage pouts. How cute.

I yawn and stretch. "Look, if you don't move me about too much, you can just go about your business. Don't expect me to be very active though."

"Never mind then. Your being so active is more than half the fun." Jowan scoots closer to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Come here, I will be your personal pillow." And so we lie down, me with my face buried in his chest. Mmm, comfy. I feel like I could sleep for days.


	96. The Deep Roads - Caridin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One step closer to building that army. And some weird shit going on.

### The Deep Roads - Caridin

Another fine pickle we're in. Finally we find Branka, turns out the woman is as mad as a hatter. Poor Oghren was so happy to see her too. She seemed reasonable enough, until she started babbling about how she had sacrificed her entire house to find the Anvil of the Void. The room we found her in trapped us as soon as we got there, littered with potentially fatal traps. So we had to fight darkspawn band after darkspawn band, while the woman ranted on about how her comrades wouldn't help her although they had pledged themselves to her. Clearly she's gone soft in the head, beyond obsessed. Which reminds me: where did Hespith run off to? Poor thing. It doesn't really matter though; she will probably meet her end soon. Let's hope it will be a merciful end.

There is still the matter as to who will be the new king of Orzammar. Obviously Branka doesn't care. If I get her the Anvil, she'll make me the Paragon crown so I can put it on the head of whomever I think should be the one. While the others were fighting busily, I snuck over to Branka and made inquiries to her rather interesting design. She went off on another tirade, this time about how she couldn't make the bloody thing work; it was supposed to be a design for a tool to efficiently grind lyrium into lyrium dust for trade with the Circle. The woman even showed me a few more sketches she had on her person. The shape of the thing rather reminded me of something. I whispered an idea into her ear and the Paragon's eyes startled sparkling like you wouldn't believe.

The notion was obviously so amusing to her that she immediately went to work on the final design. Her rants have ceased, the only sounds the clang of metal against metal. I am very curious to see what she will come up with. It would seem that Branka is as brilliant as Oghren keeps on saying.

So, after riddles involving spirits, golems and whatnot, we've walked into a very, very hot room. It is vast, and littered with lyrium veins. But wait, there's more. Stone golems are neatly standing in two files, a metal one in their midst. How very interesting. It begins speaking as I ready myself to tap it, hoping to hear an interesting noise.

"My name is Caridin," it booms. "Once, longer ago than I care to think, I was a Paragon to the dwarves of Orzammar."

Shale comes forward. Lately it's been thinking of where it came from and no doubt the thought of the golems here has piqued it curiosity. "Caridin? The Paragon Smith? Alive?"

"Ah, there is a voice I recognize," Caridin speaks fondly. "Greetings, Shayle of the House of Cadash."

Shale tilts its head. "You... know my name? Is it you that forged me, then? Is it you that gave me my name?"

"Have you forgotten then?" The metal golem sighs deeply. "It's been so long. I made you into the golem you are now, Shayle, but before that you were a dwarf as I was. The finest warrior to serve King Valtor, and the only woman to volunteer."

My golem companion's voice sounds incredulous as it, no she, says: "The only... woman? A dwarf?"

My mouth must be hanging open rather unflatteringly. This tall, broad stone creature was a woman? _Really_? So it, _she_ used to be one of the squishy creatures she despises so. I'm not sure whether to pity her or to just laugh in her face. Better not the latter though. I don't want to experience the same fate as that chicken in Honnleath.

Caridin goes on to explain his craft of golem making, and how it required living souls to animate them. First only volunteers, of which there were plenty, but then his king wanted more and more. Naturally the whole thing escalated and finally the smith himself was put on his Anvil.

"So what exactly is it you want, Caridin?" I ask him. "Not revenge, is it?"

He shakes his metal head. "No. The blow of the hammer opened my eyes. I retained my mind, for my apprentices did not know enough to fashion a control rod. You were amongst the most loyal, Shayle." If he were able to smile, I'm sure he would. "You remained at my side throughout, and in the end I sent you away out of mercy."

"I... do not remember," she replies hesitantly.

"I have sought a way to destroy the Anvil, but alas, I cannot do it myself," Caridin continues. "No golem can touch it."

" _No_!" Branka screams as she comes rushing in all of a sudden. Enter the lunatic. "The Anvil is mine! No one will take it from me!"

"You!" The Paragon smith turns to me. "Help me destroy the Anvil, please! Do not let it enslave more souls than it already has!"

After his story, I wouldn't let Branka take that Anvil anyway. "Fine, I'll do it. I hope you'll support a new king though."

"Don't listen to him!" the mad woman screams. "For a thousand years he's been stewing in his own madness. Help me claim the Anvil and you will have an army like you've never seen!"

Oghren must have decided he's kept his mouth shut long enough. "Branka, you mad, bleeding nug-tail! Does this thing mean so much to you that you can't even see what you've lost to get it?"

"Look around," Branka scoffs. "Is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn spume? The Anvil will let us take back our glory!"

"At the cost of enslaving living souls? _Fuck no_!" I join the shouting match. "We have to destroy the thing!"

Shale carefully lays a stone hand on my shoulder. "So it fights with Caridin? Good. That seems right."

"Thank you, stranger." The smith sighs in relief. "Your compassion shames me."

Branka is almost foaming at the mouth. "No! _You will not take it while I still live_!"

"Don't throw your life away for this, Branka!" Oghren implores. "Just give her the blasted thing!" he commands me. "She's confused. Maybe once she calms down, we can talk to her!"

"I'm sorry, Oghren." I shake my head. "Look at her and you will see that she is beyond redemption."

Suddenly the insane Paragon has an object in her hands. An object I've seen before, an object not unlike the one I threw away because it was broken and useless. I bet this one isn't quite as useless. Oh crap. "Golems, obey me! Attack!" she screams in fury, pulling two blades from behind her back.

Four of the golems that were previously standing at attention take on a menacing posture and turn in our direction, murderous deliberation in their motions. Lovely.

"A control rod!" Caridin yells out in shock as he is paralysed. "But... my friend, you must help me! I cannot stop her alone!"

I already have my staff at the ready, handed Jowan my dagger. Because I have a feeling this will be an emergency. Did that full-metal boob think I expected to walk out of here without a fight? And how would he stop her in the first place if he cannot even move? I don't mind, really. After all, it's not been a fruitful day if I've not shed any of my blood.

~*|'-'|*~

"Another life lost because of my invention," Caridin sighs as Branka lies dead at our feet. "I wish no mention of it had made it into history."

I wipe the blood that trickles out of a shallow cut in my forehead from my eyes. "It certainly would've made things easier, yes." Maker's breath, what a battle. The four golems were smashed into bits easily enough, but the crazy Paragon was one tough cookie. I thought I was seeing quintuple when she split herself into five Brankas, but apparently the other four were illusions. How did she _do_ that? Thank Andraste it's over.

"Stupid woman," Oghren grumbles. "Always knew the Anvil would kill her." No doubt he grieves her death. No doubt he partially blames me for it, seeing how I wouldn't give her what she wanted.

"How is it the woman was not able to disable me as she did you, Caridin?" Shale asks curiously.

He shrugs. "I do not know. Have you been altered?"

"My pathetic little mage master, he... did something to me. Experimented on me," she says with somewhat of a shudder. "And then I killed him and it rendered me paralyzed." That sounded a lot more cheerful. Creepy. I'll just leave those two alone. They must have some catching up to do.

Eventually the Paragon comes to address me. "I thank you for standing with me, stranger. Is there any boon I can grant you for your aid? A final favour before I am freed of my burden?"

"Oghren?" I rest my hand on his shoulder. "This crap cost you Branka. Is there anything you want?"

For a moment he stares at me blankly. "Huh. Don't suppose you can bring Branka back? Make her a golem, like you?" he asks Caridin.

"I would not do such a thing to her even if I could," the Paragon answers apologetically.

"Somehow I don't think so," the dwarf sighs. "Then I don't want anything to remind me of... this. Best it's just done." Poor thing sounds openly sad now.

I simply cannot resist; my arms wrap around his neck to draw the dwarf into a tight hug. First he's as stiff as a board. Until he chuckles lasciviously and I feel his hands on me. " _Oghren_! You just lost your wife and already you're grabbing my ass?" I take a large step back.

"You're the one pushing your chest hams in my face, Warden." The red-haired horror shamelessly looks me up and down, grinning like a fool. It's not my fault my breasts are level with his face. Cheeky little sod. But at least he doesn't seem as sad anymore.

"I'll not be doing that again." Ignoring Oghren's protests, I tell Caridin: "We do need your vote for the new king."

He nods. "For the aid you've given me, I shall put hammer to steel one last time and give you a crown for the king of your choice." I watch in awe as the Paragon forges the crown, sparks flying everywhere, the clang of metal upon metal echoing through the cavern. That is so awesome. The red-hot final product is cooled in a vat of cold water and handed to me. "There. Give it to whom you will. I do not wish to hear anything of them. I have already lived far beyond my time. I have no place here."

"Then I'll keep my end of the bargain and destroy the Anvil."

"That would please me, human." Caridin hands me his hammer. The thing's really bloody heavy. With trembling arms I raise it above my head and bring it down upon the blue-veined Anvil of the Void. The effect is spectacular: the blasted thing explodes, sending me flying backwards. A hard landing on my rump follows. As if I wasn't bruised enough already.

Graciously the Paragon smith helps me up before walking to the edge that leads to a pit of lava. "You have my eternal thanks, stranger. _Atrast nal tunsha_... May you always find your way in the dark." And with that he drops himself off the ledge, into the lava. I blink away a tear as I see his form slowly sinking away. May you finally find peace.


	97. The Deep Roads - Girlish Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shale learns more about her past.

### The Deep Roads - Girlish Things

"Shayle of House Cadash," Shale muses as we make our way back to Orzammar. "Is that who I once was? I find this difficult to believe."

"Why? Do you think your name is a coincidence?" The Paragon sounded so sure of himself. But of course Shale thinks of herself as an invincible, superior being and not a "squishy" little dwarf. And I kind of think she is too. I mean, all this time she's been carrying around bags and bags of stuff without losing any. And we've been in _battle_. Shale is so incredibly strong. Selling all that stuff will bring us a fortune! Not that we actually need any more; my pouch is so heavy I can barely walk straight.

The golem shrugs. "If I _was_ this Shayle of House Cadash as Caridin said, there must be some evidence of my existence remaining. I must find it."

"Could there be records in Orzammar?" Apparently her name wasn't on the golem memorial in Caridin's chamber. I'm all for people, or golems, knowing where they came from.

"There is another way," she says almost cheerfully. "What Caridin said has allowed me to remember where Cadash Thaig is. I think."

I bring out the old trusty map. "Mark it and we'll go there."

"Its offer is appreciated." Shale marks a spot that is close to our route. "I am most curious as to what we will find."

~*|'-'|*~

Shale looks around, seemingly nervous. "This is it. Cadash Thaig."

"I hope we'll find something. It seems abandoned." But I know it's not, because I feel the darkspawn are close by. This place looks nice though. It's surprisingly lush with green plants growing between every nook and cranny of the ruined buildings. And those sparkly crystals, not unlike the ones Shale is wearing, awaken strong feelings of avarice in me. They would look great dangling from a silver chain around my neck. Ah well. At least I got one pleasant surprise out of all this.

When I moved Branka's body into a more dignified position because I feel quite guilty about poor Oghren losing her, I came across an object in a velvet pouch. Thankfully nobody was paying attention when I took it out, because the object was a very lifelike presentation of a penis, made from smooth metal. Accompanying it was a scribbled note.

_Yes, yes! This is my greatest invention yet! Turning the crank at the bottom will charge it, pressing the button will turn the vibration function on or off. I call this the "vibrating rod of immense pleasure"! Hmm, I suppose the name needs some work. Too bad I didn't think of this before; Hespith would have loved it. Perhaps I can think of some kind of pelvic harness to put it in, so women can be men for a change. This will please the Warden, I'm sure of it. Maybe she will even let me demonstrate it on her._

Although that last part was a bit unnerving, I truly can't wait to try it out. I've been trying very hard not to think of it, because simply the thought of what I could do with it is uncomfortably arousing. Oghren's right, Branka was a genius indeed. But I suppose I should snap out of it for now and kill the darkspawn lurking around here.

One would think that engaging the same enemy over and over again would become boring after a while, but it really doesn't. You just have to find new and creative ways to get the deed done every time. Sometimes I don't even have to join; our mighty warriors can easily take care of them. But at least those pesky darkspawn are now all dead.

Shale walks purposefully to a ginormous statue of a dwarf holding an equally ginormous hammer above its head. "What is this?" she mutters. "This... this I remember! It has dates and names." A stone finger traces the etchings in the statue. "This is to honour those who volunteered, those who became golems." Her finger halts at a single name. "Here. Shayle of House Cadash, just as Caridin said. I remember now. I remember Shayle. That... was me."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" I don't think she sounds very happy about it, even if she's been so curious to find out more about her past. "So you're female, huh? I suppose that explains your fondness of pretty gems."

"I did not think it needed to be said." The golem sighs in exasperation. "It has never told me what gender it is, has it?"

I thought it was perfectly clear what sex I was part of. "Well no, I didn't think it was necessary either. It doesn't really matter anyway."

"Agreed." She nods. "Whatever gender I was is irrelevant now. I am a genderless golem. It will not become an issue?"

"No, of course not. As long as we don't start fighting over the same men." I chuckle at my own joke.

Another one of those derisive snorting sounds that the golem seems to utter so often at whatever it is I say. "Oh, ho, ho," she drawls sarcastically. "I can tell this is going to be a whole pile of laughs. Oh yes, comedy goldmine." Shale pounds her massive fists against each other. "Now, let us crush something soft and watch it fountain blood. That is a girlish thing to want to do, yes?"

I scramble to take my distance. "Suuuure it is..."


	98. Orzammar - Epic Fail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, who is it going to be? Harrowmont or Bhelen?

### Orzammar - Epic Fail

The lords and ladies of the Assembly are nearly ready to go at each other's throats as Oghren and I enter. Not even the Steward can get Bhelen and Harrowmont to cease their shouting match.

"What news do you bring?" Harrowmont immediately asks nervously as our arrival is announced.

"I bear a crown from the Paragon Caridin, forged on the Anvil of the Void." I do like these big pompous speeches. Especially when the onlookers utter a collective gasp the way they just did.

Oghren steps forward. "Caridin was trapped in the body of a golem. This Warden granted him the mercy he sought, releasing him and destroying the Anvil of the Void," he says, gesturing with both hands. "Before he died, Caridin forged a crown for Orzammar's next king, chosen by the ancestors themselves!" For a smelly drunkard, he does have a way with words.

"And are we supposed to trust this, the word of a drunken sot and a Grey Warden known to be in Harrowmont's pocket?" Bhelen objects loudly.

"Silence!" the Steward booms. He comes closer to inspect the crown I have in my hands. "This crown is of Paragon make and bears House Ortan's ancient seal. Tell us, Warden: whom did Caridin choose?"

"To be perfectly honest, he didn't. He wished me to give it to whomever I chose."

Of course the prince does not agree. "The Grey Warden knows nothing about us! Why would a Paragon entrust someone like this with such a weighty decision? This is ridiculous!" I'm about to say that his _mother_ is ridiculous, but think better of it. If I did that, no doubt it would come back to bite me in the backside someday.

The Steward rubs his eyes. "We've argued in these chambers for too long. The will of the Paragon is that the Grey Warden decide."

Harrowmont, I choose you! Heh. "Then I would grant the crown to Harrowmont."

"I appreciate your forthrightness, Warden," the man says as he makes his way down the steps. "You have acted with grace throughout this entire torturous process." And so he bends his knee to have the Paragon crown put on his head. Lord Harrowmont is now King Harrowmont.

"I will not abide by this!" Bhelen screams. Somehow I didn't think he would slink home with his tail between his legs. And again I'm proven right when he and his supporters draw their weapons. Which those little sneaks weren't even allowed to have here in the first place. Within seconds the Chambers of the Assembly are a true battlefield. In the ensuing chaos my other companions, who were no doubt waiting outside the doors anxiously, rush in to join the festivities.

~*|'-'|*~

"I admit, I did not think even Bhelen would defy the word of a Paragon," King Harrowmont speaks when it is all over and the dead bodies are being dragged out, among which that of the prince. "Or that so many would follow him. But I trust we will bring this insurgency under control." I'm just anxious to get out of here, to be perfectly honest. Just get to the treaties and how you will honour them already. The new king seems to pick up on my thoughts. "We will begin preparations for a surface mission immediately. Orzammar will fulfil its treaties."

"Thank you, King Harrowmont." Alistair bows gracefully. "Perhaps your rule will mark a new era for Orzammar." Things like this make me think that he would make a fine king. With a little help, maybe.

Harrowmont straightens the crown atop his head. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get to the palace and set my plans in motion. I wish you luck against the Blight, Warden. May we foster another four centuries of peace." With a last grave nod, the man leaves for his palace.

Just outside a crier is already screaming about what happened in the Assembly. "News of the hour!" the dwarf bellows. "Lord Bhelen attacks the Assembly and is ignominiously slain! _EPIC FAIL_!"

Ha-ha! That right there makes me want to roll on the floor laughing my ass off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That concludes this portion of the adventures of Astoreth and friends. Keep reading and best wishes for 2015.


	99. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth gains info by some old-fashioned eavesdropping.

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Gossip

"Hey, have you heard the news?" The haggard man speaks in hushed tones, to another who looks just as crappy as he does. The two are idly standing near the gates to Orzammar.

The other grins, eyes sparkling. "Do tell." Heh. And they say we women are gossips.

"Word is," the first looks around suspiciously before continuing, "That someone survived that battle at Ostagar." Interesting. I sidle up a little closer to the two, whistling innocently. Nothing to see here, just a mage who's not eavesdropping on you. Honest.

"No!" the other gasps. "Tell me more!" Yes, tell us more.

I pretend to be engrossed in perusing a merchant's wares when the man with the juicy gossip looks around again. Oh wow, this sword is ginormous. I'm going to buy it for Sten; he needs a new one anyway. One sovereign, seventy-two silvers and eighty bits. I hand the merchant two sovereigns. "Keep the change."

In low whispers, the gossip goes on: "They say Bann Loren has captured this fellow and is torturing him! Pulling out his teeth and..." The rest is of no interest to me, so I rush to the others.

"Alistair, Alistair!"

He curiously looks up from his cheese sandwich. It's actually a thick slice of cheese sandwiched between two thinner slices. "Hm? What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Thinking about my knickers, are you?" His instantly lobster red face makes me giggle. "Anyway, I heard there might be someone who survived Ostagar. Do you know where Bann Loren lives?" Again ye olde mappe is brought out. It's a miracle we manage to make out places with all the red markings on it.

Alistair laughs. "Where did you hear this? It could be a waste of time, but his domain is on the way to the tower, so I guess we could go check it out." Another smear of red ink goes on the map.

Ah, yes. Kinloch Hold, where Jowan will receive his punishment. Poor thing. Poor me. He seems ready enough to face whatever the Circle and the templars have in store for him, but I don't really want to part from my oldest friend. Not yet. Not ever, really. I sit myself next to him and link my arm with his. "So how are you feeling?" Me, not so hot. I'm not so eager to let him go.

"Oh, I'm great!" he says enthusiastically, shutting the book he was reading with a quick snap. Nugget, who is sitting on his lap, twitches nervously. "That was quite the adventure. Golems, criminals, giant spiders, darkspawn! Even an epic battle between dwarven nobles. Although I could've done without that broodmother." His nose wrinkles in disgust.

Alistair promptly drops his sandwich. "Ugh, did you have to remind me? There goes my appetite." But then he picks the cheese up from the ground, dusts it off and continues eating anyway. Yuck.

"Yes, obviously." Jowan rolls his eyes. "Really, do you need all that food? It's a good thing you get so much exercise."

I get up. Apparently Alistair has found someone else to bicker with. This is better than the hateful wordplay with Morrigan, though. Two youngsters poking fun at each other. How sweet.

The Warden grins, charming bits of cheese stuck between his teeth. "What can I say? I'm a growing boy, you know." Okay, I've seen enough. I better give Sten this sword.

Behind me I hear my friend laughing. "I'll say!" His laughter turns into feigned frightful pleads about not hitting him because he's so delicate and has a nug to care for. Mmm, I hope they'll kiss and make up later. I'm so terrible.

I find Sten sitting before his tent, busily honing his blade with a worn whetstone. The sword has seen so much use that its cutting edge is chipped. Stubbs has taken a shine to the giant, peacefully sleeping at his feet. I think my mabari is the only one of us the man actually _likes_. And Shale maybe; those two both hold the belief that we humans are useless pests. If they weren't so useful, I'm not sure if I would put up with them. "Hello, Sten."

"Warden." He doesn't even look in my direction, just keeps on polishing his weapon.

"You can stop doing that. Here, look." I present him the enormous sword I just bought, balancing the thing atop my palms.

In a rather uncharacteristic fashion the Qunari's eyes grow wide as he snatches it from my hands. The sharp edge leaves a nasty cut. "This sword, where did you get it?" he asks urgently.

"Bought it from a merchant," I mumble, sucking on my hand. "Why? You're behaving quite strangely."

"Bring me to this merchant!" he demands, abruptly rising to his feet. As I guide him there, Sten explains how he and a few of his fellow Qunari were sent to Ferelden at the behest of their leader. They were to see if there was truly a Blight, but were overcome by darkspawn. Sten was the only one to survive, discovered by a family of farmers who took him in and nursed him back to health. They got small thanks for their pains, however, seeing how he murdered them upon waking up without his sword. Turns out the particular sword I bought belonged to one of his mates. What a coincidence.

The giant marches up to the unfortunate merchant in question, effortlessly picks him up and begins shaking him to within an inch of his life. Bombarded with questions and vehement shaking, the man eventually breaks down and spills the beans. He did find a similar sword, yes, but a dwarf bought it from him. A dwarf by the name of Dwyn that was going to Redcliffe. I know that guy! Satisfied with the information, Sten puts the man down and walks toward me. "I would appreciate it if we could retrieve my sword in Redcliffe."

"We will go there after we've done the last treaty. Think you can manage until then?"

He nods wordlessly. And so ends the longest conversation I've ever had with the man.


	100. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - The Hunt for the Qunari Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth can't be bothered to fetch Sten's sword herself, so she has others do it for her.

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - The Hunt for the Qunari Sword

"Hey, Zev." I beckon the assassin to come closer. "Do you have a minute?"

He casually saunters up to me. "For you always, Warden." Again with the purring and the sexy smiles. I'm not giving in.

"I was wondering if you'd do something for me." Cue the propositions and innuendo.

The honey-coloured eyes light up. "Your mage not up to your standards anymore?" He wraps an arm around my waist to draw me closer to him. For the umpteenth time.

"For fuck's sake, Zevran, enough of this." I narrow my eyes, but don't push him away. "It's not about warming my bed, or doing things with your tongue that would blow my mind. Okay?"

And here's the pouting. "What is it you wish of me then?"

"Be a dear and pick something up for me in Redcliffe. Take with you whomever you want." I give that a quick thought. "Except for Wynne."

"Your wish is my command, dear Warden," he coos. His face is so close to mine that his lips brush my cheek. "What am I to pick up?"

I show him a nice smile. "It's a Qunari sword. Sten's sword, in fact. It's in the possession of a dwarf named Dwyn. I don't care if you have to threaten him or buy the thing from him, please just make sure you get it."

"Very well. May I take Oghren and Morrigan with me?" He hums thoughtfully. "And your dog perhaps too?"

"That's excellent thinking, Zev. A nicely balanced group. By all means take them; if they want to go, that is."

The elf smiles hopefully. "Perhaps you would reward me with a kiss, hmm?"

"Why, certainly, my friend!" I cup his face in my hands to plant a loud, wet smooch in the middle of his forehead.

Laughing heartily he wipes off the residue of my affection. "Not quite what I had in mind, but thank you nonetheless."

"No, thank _you_." I give him a quick hug. "I appreciate it." But of course I can't expect our adventurers to pay for this expedition out of their own pocket, so I give him a load of cash and a good supply of health poultices. We decide to meet up at the inn by the docks of Lake Calenhad.

Arms filled with jars of healing goodness, Zevran heads for Oghren's tent. "My stocky friend!"

"Whaddya want, you knife-eared pipe-cleaner?" the perpetually drunken dwarf yells gruffly. Sometimes I wonder whether taking him with us was such a good idea. Well, apparently he's not welcome in Orzammar anyway, and we welcome practically any Tom, Dick and Harriet. Ah, I think Morrigan will react much the same as the red-haired horror. Surely for me they will go on this quest, no? How much trouble would it be for one assassin, one warrior, one witch and one warhound to retrieve one sword? Anyway, I have stuff to do.


	101. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Greatest Invention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroine has fun with a certain something she picked up in Orzammar.

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Greatest Invention

Finally I get to try out the Paragon's invention. It has a nice size; not too small, not too large. The metal is smooth and cool to the touch, but merely holding it is enough to warm it. I'm not quite sure what to call it. _Vibrating rod of immense pleasure_ is such a mouthful. A thing that vibrates... Vibrator? That could work. But enough thinking, let's get to the action!

I've already turned the crank many times; pushing the button causes it to buzz quite loudly, the vibrations running all the way up my arm. The sound is so much like angry bees, someone will no doubt come calling if they happen to hear. Luckily most are asleep. Only Alistair and Jowan are up, guarding the camp. I do wonder what those boys are doing together.

Slowly, slowly I guide the surrogate penis into me while I conjure images of the big, strong warrior taking the fragile mage into his arms and kissing him fiercely, tangling his fingers into that dark hair. Oh yes, the vibrating feels most delicious. I lick the fingers of my free hand to begin circling my button. Mmm, and what if those two were to release each other and focus on me, lavishing me with kisses and caresses? Kissing each other from time to time. Capturing me between their warm bodies.

I hear a low "Hey, what's that noise?" followed by a gasp and "Maker!" just before my entire body begins shaking. I manage to thrust the vibrator into me a little harder while my orgasm ravages my senses. When I open my eyes, I can make out my tent mate in the faint light that seeps in through a small gap in the canvas.

Jowan is on me in an instant, plunging his tongue onto my mouth, his hands busily plucking at his robes to get them off. I knew he would like catching me naked and playing with myself. Soon his lips are on my cheek, on my neck, whispering words of appreciation between kisses. Lower and lower he goes, and still I'm thrusting the metal cock into me. It's very nice, but it can't compare to having a man in you, on top of you. Or underneath you.

A low whimper escapes my throat when his tongue lightly flicks against my pulsating bump. So good. His hand takes over from mine, intensifying the thrusts. Slow, but hard and deep. He knows exactly how I like it. His lips close around my clit, and for the very first time he actually sucks on it. The feeling is new; rather than being focused on the tip, pressure is applied to the outer edges. But I like it, and so I weave my fingers through my lover's silky hair as I often do, pushing his face deeper into my lap. Before long I achieve my second climax. Insane waves of pleasure ripple through me, amplified by the now very warm rod pumping in and out. It's so difficult not to scream and wake up the entire camp.

Before I've fully come to my senses, the metal cock is pulled from me and replaced with something infinitely better. Jowan's rock-hard erection, bigger than it's ever been. Yes, _this_ is the stuff. He hovers over me, licking my juices from the rather lifelike representation of a penis, enraptured. I bite my lip and imagine that's Alistair he's licking with such delight. My muscles clench around him of their own accord, making him gasp. Eventually he lays the tool to the side to settle himself on top of me, his thrusts gentle.

I wrap my arms around his neck to bring him closer for a kiss, tasting myself on his lips. His body feels so warm, soft and familiar. As if it was always meant to be like this. I wrap my legs around his waist, which he takes as his cue to start going quicker and harder. Every thrust sends an intense sensation of pleasure into my belly, and from there through my entire body. It seems like an eternity before my lover tenses and spends himself in me with a low groan. Another exquisite round of lovemaking that's left the both of us breathless.

After another sweet kiss he lies next to me and pulls me close. "I thought my brain was going to explode when I saw you like that. Where did you get that thing?"

"Branka's last invention." I press the button again to stop the infernal buzzing. "Amazing, isn't it?"

"You are what's amazing here, milady." The affectionate whisper sends a chill down my spine. "I'm glad you wanted to take me along." He smiles down on me, eyes gleaming in the faint light.

The corners of my mouth curl up to return that smile. "Well, of course. If you wanted, I could also _not_ deliver you to the Circle."

"You could." Jowan softly strokes my cheek. "But you shouldn't. It would come back to haunt you eventually, and I don't want that."

I sigh and rest my head on his chest. "As you wish. Then I suppose we will have to part soon."

"Afraid so. There... there is something I need to tell you."

Something in the tone of his voice causes me to snap to. "What's that?"

"I..." He shakes his head and begins groping around for his robes. "Shall we go out for a walk?"

We dress in silence. I wonder what this is about. It sounds urgent. Important. Maybe he knows of buried treasure somewhere and wants me to have it. But I doubt that. Once outside the tent I'm glad to see that Morrigan and Leliana have guard duty now. That means we don't have to sneak out. Shale never sleeps, but I don't really trust her not to let us get murdered in our sleep, should someone try to. She would no doubt find that an immensely funny notion, so I'm not going to leave her alone to guard the camp. No ser.

"Ladies." I run up to them while my friend stays behind with our lantern. "Jowan and I we will be going into the woods for a little walk."

Morrigan bares her pearly whites in a suggestive smile. "Is that what 'tis called these days?"

"Indeed." Leliana giggles girlishly. "You two need a change of scenery, no? Always that same old tent must be getting boring."

I could take the bait, but I'm not going to. "We won't be long."

"Stay safe," the bard says. "And don't stray too far."

"No mother, we won't." I poke her in the ribs. "And we're not completely defenceless either. See you later."


	102. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Honey Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What oh what is this important thing Jowan has to say?

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Honey Pie

My best friend and I walk off into the woods together, halt in an area that is well-sheltered by trees. I hang the lantern on a low branch so we can at least see what we're saying on this moonless night. "Now, what did you want to tell me?"

"How do I say this?" he mutters uncomfortably. He sighs and grasps my hands. "Look, I know it's selfish and stupid of me, but I can't hold it in any longer. I have to tell you how I feel."

My heart rate increases by tenfold; my mouth feels dry. This isn't what I think it is, is it? It probably is. Momentarily all I can do is stare in shock. "So, ho-how do you feel?" I manage to ask eventually.

Jowan locks eyes with me, an unreadable expression on his face. "You don't even have to say anything if you don't want to. It's just..." The tension is thick when he swallows and deeply inhales, then exhales. "Astoreth. I love you."

The news, though not unexpected, is like a mallet to the chest. My knees feel weak as I look into his eyes and recognize what was there all along. What I've felt for quite a while too now. Unable to find the right words to say, I capture his lips in a long kiss. Warm and gentle. Loving. Maker help me. "I love you too," I whisper when we let go. It's a recipe for disaster, but I don't care.

"You make me so happy, my love." He cradles me against his chest. "I've wanted to call you that for a while now." His voice is relieved, full of joy.

It's not that I'm not happy myself, but... Ah. Let's just cross that bridge when we get to it. I feel a little... dazed. This is a bit strange. Still, I've known this guy most of my life, so I suppose it's familiar in a way. "Oh? And what should I be calling you then?" I snicker. "How about... honey pie?"

"No!" He laughs. "That's too girly, even for me. So, shall we get back to camp?"

"Well, we _could_ do that, sure." I give him my most seductive smile. "Or we could go for a quickie here in the woods." I guide his hand between my legs to let him know that I've not made the effort to put my panties back on. His eyes grow wide in surprise, but his fingers find the right places to touch almost reflexively.

With a low chuckle my brand new beloved pins me against a nearby tree. His fingers never stop sliding in and out of me, his thumb still gently rubbing my button. I close my eyes and press my back against the rough bark. All feeling numbs, except in the parts being pleasured, gusts of hot breath sometimes hitting my face. For the third time tonight I feel as if I'm exploding into a mass of red-hot ecstasy.

"Can't get enough of that." Jowan grins at me and licks his wet fingers. I can see how he's pitched himself quite the tent in those robes. Mmm. Now it's my turn to pin him against the tree.

I get on my knees to hike his robes up; I nearly get slapped in the face when I release his erection from its cloth confines. Such enthusiasm. I immediately suck him all the way into my mouth, earning me a long-drawn moan. My tongue caresses along his length, my hand carefully massages his balls. He really seems to like this. So much in fact, that he pulls me to my feet, turns my face toward the tree and simply enters me in one smooth thrust. Good thinking; my belly might get in the way otherwise. I plant both hands on the trunk to brace myself.

My lover pounds into me, hard, fast and without mercy. As it so happens, that is exactly the way I like it. I cry out with every thrust, pressing my nails into the bark. Jowan growls deep in his throat while he fucks me, digs his fingers deep into the flesh of my hips. When he buries himself into me for the last time, I scream his name. He throbs and twitches, leaning heavily against me, nuzzling my neck. "I love you so much," he pants. This declaration of affection rather clashes with our animalistic coupling, but okay. I'm not complaining.

"I love you too, Jowse." I neatly tidy my robes when he pulls out of me. "Now we can return."

"Tell me something," he says as we make our way back to camp. His hand folds around mine. It's like old times; except now we're more than friends. "Do you still miss Cullen?"

"Cullen?" I hadn't given it that much thought. But that in itself is already an indication. "Not really. I still think of him often, but I'm worried for him. I hope he'll recover from whatever he went through in the tower. Why do you ask?"

He sighs, a mixture of sadness and contentment. "I don't miss Lily anymore. She hardly ever even crosses my mind anymore. All I can think of is you."

"That's not very surprising; we spend so much time together, after all. But, does this even change anything? Will you stay with me?" I send him a pleading look, but his expression betrays his answer.

"I would love to stay with you, really." He gives my hand a brief squeeze. "But I still need to be punished for my crimes."

"Couldn't a really good spanking just suffice?" A feeble attempt, I know. Don't blame me for trying.

Jowan laughs at my joke. "You can spank me as much as you like, love. But I don't think it will make up for me poisoning Arl Eamon and indirectly causing an undead infestation." He sighs and grips my shoulders to have me stop walking. "This is why I said it was stupid and selfish. We can only be together for so long."

I let out an exasperated puff of air. "I have such terrible taste in men. A traumatized templar, a Chantry initiate seducing blood mage who is a glutton for punishment..." A dead thief. Daveth. Damn, but he was hot. "In any case, we should just enjoy this while we can."

"You're right." He smiles and wraps me into a warm hug. I love him. A lot. And he is mine until I hand him to the Circle. There is nothing wrong with wanting to keep your beloved with you a bit longer, is there? Of course there isn't.

~*|'-'|*~

Yet another helping of spectacular sex later I'm safely nestled in my love's arms. Jowan is sleeping peacefully, his breathing deep and regular. No snoring at all; the perfect person to share a bed with. Why in the Maker's name does he not want me to save him? I could force him to stay with me, rub Greagoir's face in the Right of Conscription. The man would probably go very red and start foaming at the mouth. Maybe even throw a few choice expletives at me. First I get away from my punishment and now Jowan? Ha, I'd really like to see that. Glorious.

But I shouldn't. Don't they say that if you love someone, you should let them go, or something along those lines? I tend to think that they, whoever the people who come up with these cheesy proverbs are, are utter fools. In this case though, they're right. My best friend, my beloved, wishes to be punished for his crimes. Crazy masochist. I gladly evaded _my_ punishment. At great cost, but still.

The single ring that adorns my finger comes to my mind's eye. A golden band with a sky blue gemstone. It's become such an inherent part of me, I hardly even notice its presence anymore. Much like when I was still wearing the ring Cullen gave me. How would he be faring? All right I hope. That poor man. It's not my business anymore, though; I suppose I've truly moved on now. And when Jowan is gone? Well. We shall see.


	103. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - The Honour Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth tries a diversion to save someone. The operative word being "tries".

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - The Honour Guard

Here we are, Bann Loren's lands. That's a lot of land. Were it mine, I'd probably want to rut under every tree. And there are _a lot_ of trees here. Before we set off, Zevran, Oghren, Morrigan and Stubbs bid us farewell. As per my instructions they made up some excuse; the return of his sword is supposed to be a surprise for Sten. It was clear that the dwarf and the witch weren't too eager to go, but the promise of more booze for Oghren and jewellery for Morrigan pushed them over the brink. My sweet doggie seemed happy enough to go on an adventure of his own. That's my boy.

"What do you know of this Loren character?" I ask Alistair.

He scratches his head. "Well, I hear he's not the nicest of people. There will be trouble if we get caught poking around on his property."

"So we should be all sneaky-like." I look around. "If only four of us go, we will be quieter and move quicker. Alistair, Leliana, Wynne; let's go."

"Can't I go too?" Jowan frantically grabs my hand. "I'd like to be there, to make sure you're safe."

My fellow Warden folds his arms before his chest. "What am I, chopped liver?" he grumbles.

"No, you stay here with the others." I give the mage's hand a little squeeze. "And that's final."

"As you wish, then." He sighs. "Be careful, my love." And before I know it, his lips are on mine, arms tightly wrapped around me. In front of everyone. Who didn't know we had begun an affair. Alistair groans loudly. He just lost a bet, but luckily for him those coins aren't going anywhere until Zev returns.

I clear my throat and will my blushing to go away. No luck. "Don't be so dramatic, _honey pie_. We'll be back before you know it."

Leliana hooks her arms through mine as we walk away to find this possible survivor. "So, I take it we will not be bringing him to the Circle?" she asks curiously.

I shake my head. "Sadly, we will. I can't persuade him to stay."

"Oh." The bard's voice sounds a bit disappointed.

Wynne gives me a worried look. "Are you sure this is such a good idea then? You will get hurt."

"True." I flash the woman a confident smile. "But it's not about me. It's about him. I want to make him as happy as he can be. He doesn't have that much time left."

"That... is most selfless of you," Wynne says hesitantly. She probably thinks I'm out of my mind.

I shrug. "It's not like I'm not getting anything out of this." Oh my. I better not dwell on this too much. Simply thinking of my lover on top of me, inside of me, makes it a bit difficult to walk properly.

"How romantic!" Leliana sighs. "Perfect for a ballad."

"Yeah... Of two mages who fall in love after a long friendship and find comfort in each other, knowing that one of them is doomed! Sounds like a grand tale indeed." I can't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. It's not romantic; it borders on stupid. But I don't care, because he is worth it. And Maker knows I need all the love I can get.

Just as the redhead opens her mouth to protest, Alistair holds up his hand. "Shush. I hear something." A fair distance away from us, a group of men are standing near a bridge. Ever so silently we sneak up to them. Right on time, it seems.

One of the men is dressed in tattered clothing, the four others in similar leathers. The odd man out slowly backs away, threatened at dagger point. I can already see where this is going. Time to stop it.

"Hey you!" I yell. The four turn simultaneously. "Yes, you! Your mothers are dirt-wallowing ogre lovers!"

The men draw their weapons and come running to receive the beating we have in store for them, but not before stabbing their poor prisoner in the gut. Great. That's exactly what I didn't want to happen.

~*|'-'|*~

Four dead henchmen, a barely audible conversation and feeble death gurgle from the man we were trying to save later, I'm the proud owner of a shakily drawn map. Alistair recognized the prisoner as Elric Maraigne (I had no idea who the man was), one of Cailan's honour guard.

The king gave the man a key to the royal arms chest, in which are some valuable documents and King Maric's sword. Apparently Elric fled the battle and got captured by Bann Loren. The map he drew me with his last strength yields the place where he hid the key. I think that after we've visited the elves, we'll be returning to Ostagar. Those documents can wait; nobody's going to steal them with the darkspawn running the place. I have to admit I rather like being a party of only four. It's so much easier so oversee.

Oh dear. We're not exactly in mint condition anymore. One of my sleeves is almost torn off and there are several arrows sticking out of me. Jowan is so going to have a fit when he sees me like this.

~*|'-'|*~

As we return to the others, Jowan turns toward me, smiling happily. "Oh, Tori, you're ba..." His cheerful expression turns sour as soon as he takes a good look at me. "You're hurt!" He immediately begins prodding me to check the extent of my injuries. "Maker's breath, you look like a pin cushion!" he exclaims upon noticing the three arrows sticking out of me. Archers really seem to like me. I'm lucky they've never managed to hit a vital organ.

"Oh, we're fine. Thanks for asking," Alistair says dryly.

"Perhaps I could provide it some assistance?" Shale offers. "If I squish its tiny head, it will never feel any pain again." She pounds her massive fists against each other.

Alistair raises an eyebrow and hides behind me, using me as a rather pathetic shield. "I'm going to have to say no to that, but thanks for the offer."

"Ah." The golem sighs despondently. "That is so unfortunate."


	104. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Warden? Yoo-hoo?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi's requirements for being able to take on his assignment rather puzzle Astoreth.

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Warden? Yoo-hoo?

The first shift is for us Wardens. Guarding the camp. Sometimes I wonder why we even bother; nothing ever happens. I pet Nugget's suede-like skin while he sits next to me, eating some of tonight's dinner from a bowl. Alistair made that stuff; I'm glad the nug isn't very picky about what he eats. Suddenly I feel the Warden's hand on my shoulder.

"About you and Jowan..." He shoots me an incredulous look. "Why?"

I shrug. "He said he loved me, I told him I felt the same, we took it from there. Why not?"

"I know you're best friends, and you've known him all your life, but I still don't understand." My colleague sighs. "You will just end up getting your heart broken again, just like with Collin."

" _Cullen_ , dear. His name is Cullen. At any rate..." I sigh too. Now how do I explain this? "Jowan was there to pick up the pieces Cullen had left me in. And now I'm here for him, to care for him and stand by his side until he is no more. I think that what he and I have is worth the pain it may cause me eventually. Can you understand that?"

Alistair nods slowly. "Yes, I think so." For a while he's silent, poking into the fire.

"I'm sorry. You're my friend, and I should've told you about Jowan and myself."

"Oh." He scratches his head, a pensive look on his face. "It's fine. When did that all start anyway?"

"The second time we were in Redcliffe, after we'd been to Kinloch Hold. He came into my room in the dead of night with a last request of sorts." Ah, good times.

The Warden raises an eyebrow. "I don't think I need to ask what kind of request that was. Damn, Zev was right all along." He shakes his head incredulously. "This blatant disregard for your own feelings is... touching, but what will you do when he's gone?"

"I try not to think about it. But no doubt I can count on you again, just like last time, no? Holding me so I can sleep and everything?" Somewhere deep down inside, I'm actually looking forward to spending a night in his arms again, shitty reason or no. "I know you tried your best to make me feel better, but apparently I require a different kind of comfort."

"Different?" He blushes and smiles shyly. "What exactly do you mean?" The redness in his face suggests he has at least an inkling of what I mean.

"Heh, surely you..." Suddenly I hear twigs snapping. Someone has just entered our camp. I take back what I said about standing guard serving no purpose.

"Waaaarden!" an unfamiliar voice calls. "Warden? Yoo-hoo?" A harmless-looking man, dressed in the typical clothing of a Fereldan commoner, steps into the light of the fireplace. He is smiling brightly.

Alistair rises to his feet, casually resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. "That's us. Can we help you?"

"Ah, so good to meet you!" The stranger grabs his hand and energetically pumps it up and down. "The name is Levi, Levi Dryden. Did Duncan ever mention me? Levi of the Coins? Levi the Trader?"

"I'm Alistair, and this is Astoreth," he introduces us. My hand gets firmly shaken too. "I've never heard of you, I'm afraid."

Levi looks disappointed. "Really? He never told you of old Levi? We've known each other for years! But I'll cut to the chase; wouldn't want to waste your time while there is a Blight and everything," he chuckles. "You see, Duncan promised that together we'd look into something important for the Wardens. And for me." The man sighs sadly. "But poor Duncan is... no more. And that's a tragedy, but I'm sure he would want his work carried on. His pledge fulfilled."

I feel a request coming up. "And what pledge might that be?" I ask.

"Well, my family's name is mud around the noble circles since Sophia Dryden, the last Warden-Commander of Ferelden, was connected with some rebellion and our land and titles taken by King Arland. She died at the old Grey Warden base, at Soldier's Peak, and we want evidence to clear her name. It won't get us back the land or titles, but it'll restore our honour," Levi explains.

"Soldier's Peak?" The name doesn't even ring a bell. "Where is that?"

The merchant chuckles. "Nobody's been there since Arland's days. I spent years mapping the tunnels to the peak. And I found the way a few years back. So I went to Duncan, I did, and I said he could reclaim the base and my family could have its honour."

"How will reclaiming it help the Wardens?" Alistair asks curiously. It's good to see he is confident enough to mingle into conversations now; he's becoming a big boy! Makes me proud.

"Soldier's Peak has strategic and symbolic importance," our visitor says sagely. "Duncan said that would be worth it right there. He also hoped to recover lost Warden history and perhaps a few old relics. No one knows what's up there now."

My fellow Warden utters a sad sigh. "Duncan probably died before he got the chance to help you, huh?"

Levi nods, equally gloomy. "Said he would help after the battle at Ostagar. There might be useful things at the Peak, you know."

"We will help you," Alistair states, looking decidedly resolute. My, my, that sounded rather confident.

I grab a hold of his arm. "Did mine ears deceive me, Alistair? Did you just make a decision all on your own?"

"Oh, put a sock in it, you." He laughs and playfully tweaks my nose.

The merchant claps his hands together. "A thousand blessings upon you, Wardens!" he gushes. "That'll be 560 points."

"I beg your pardon?" What is this man saying? "What points?"

"Why, points to buy my map with of course!" Levi exclaims. "I even sell them myself; as a special price, I will charge you a mere forty sovereigns for 800 points."

I don't completely understand what this man is saying, but I do get this: "You're asking us for help, and now you expect us to pay you? And if I were to consider paying you, which I'm not really, couldn't I just buy those 560 points from you?"

Levi shrugs. "Making this map wasn't cheap. And no, sorry, I sell in bulk. But you can spend the remainder of your points on other things!"

What nonsense is this? I don't even know what these points _are_! This moron makes my middle fingers awfully twitchy. "Right. How about you go and fu..."

"Astoreth!" Alistair brusquely cuts me off. "This could be very important. Let me do this." Contrary to his usual behaviour, all I see is determination. No puppy eyes here. Not even confusion as to that whole points business.

"Fine..." After all, who am I to mess with this new-found confidence of his? I count out forty pieces of gold and hand them to Levi.

The merchant gives the coins in his hands a satisfied look. "I'll mark down the location on your map. You now have 240 points left."

I hold out a hand. "So? Fork them over." What would these points look like, I wonder?

"No, see, these points are virtual," the merchant says cryptically. "But don't worry, we can see how many you have."

I shake my head. "You know what, I give up. My mind is blown."

Apparently this bizarreness doesn't faze Alistair at all. "I'll make it up to you," he promises before fetching the map for our guest to mark Soldier's Peak. It's to the north, quite far too. "Can we go as soon as possible?" my colleague asks rather unexpectedly.

"We could, tomorrow. But what about...?" Be still my beating heart. Perhaps this is another chance for me to keep my love here a little longer.

"It's too bad for him, but Jowan is just going to have to wait for his sentence." He grins and winks.

I can't help but squeal like a little girl. "Have I already mentioned that you are totally awesome?" I throw my arms around him and grin into his chest. Make it up to me, will he? Oh, I can think of a few ways.

"Yes, but I can't get enough of hearing it." Alistair's laughter rumbles against my ear. "Do go on."

I open my mouth to shower the boy with compliments, but then I hear an amused chuckle. Levi is watching us with unveiled glee. The compliments will have to wait until later. "So Levi, why don't you go get your stuff and set up with us, so we can all depart together tomorrow?"

He perks up. "Oh yes, good idea Warden!" And so he trots away. This better be worth all that cash.

"Where was I? Ah yes. You're totally awesome!" I yell. "Kind, considerate! Strong, handsome, a fine warrior! Er..." What else? "Cute! Built like a brick! Uhm..."

He bursts out laughing. "Okay, okay, I get it. You like me. Anyway, thanks for letting me do this for Duncan."

"I had nothing to do with it. The decision was yours, and I'm proud you made up your own mind." I ruffle his hair. "You've become a man, Alistair!" And will be even more so when I'm done with him. Heh. Not a good idea, since I'm spoken for. Temporarily. It's funny how Jowan doesn't seem very jealous of my lusting after Alistair. If I ever get the chance, you can count on it that I will bang him like a trashcan lid. Thoroughly wear him out.

His cheeks turn pink. "Well, I... Never mind. I'll just wake the others for their shift. Goodnight."

"What? Is there something you wanted to say?" What's with all the awkwardness lately? Maybe I'm not giving him enough attention. After all, most of my free time goes toward Jowan.

"No, nothing." Alistair smiles and bends down to kiss my cheek. "Goodnight, little Warden."

I give him another hug. "Sleep well, big Warden." Now to deliver the good news.


	105. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Warm Orange Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now to deliver the news and not get distracted! Ooh...

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Warm Orange Glow

Ah, the lantern's on, so Jowan is obviously not sleeping. I burst through the tent flap. "Jowse! I got some great ne... _Ooooooh_." Now I know why the lantern is on. It's so I can admire my lover in all his glory. All his _naked_ glory. Bathed in a warm orange glow that emphasizes the graceful beauty of his slender body, he is smiling at me enticingly, slowly stroking himself. How could I never have noticed before how absolutely gorgeous my beloved friend is?

"Hi, princess." His voice is low and throaty, sending a pleasant chill down my spine. "I was a little lonely, so I got started without you."

Goodness, I just can't keep my eyes off him. My hands automatically begin unbuttoning my robes. "Good on you, darling." My own voice is nothing but a hoarse whisper. Soon my clothes are off and my undergarments follow suit. "I have some news for you." I slowly crawl over my beloved's body, feeling much like a feral cat. Ready to pounce.

"I'm listening." His breath hitches in his throat when my lips make contact with his neck. I can feel his pulse under my touch; the touch of my lips, of my tongue. His skin is soft and smooth and warm against my fingers.

"We got a request to clear some fellow's name, you see." A row of kisses down his throat, alternated with the occasional lick. "Tomorrow we'll be going to Soldier's Peak." Further I descend, kissing and caressing his chest.

He moans softly when the tip of my tongue touches his nipple. "So-Soldier's Peak? Where's that?"

"It's up north." My fingers trace the lines of his ribs, my lips follow close behind. "About a week's travel." I run my tongue along the outline of his lightly defined abdominal muscles, pressing soft kisses all over his stomach.

"But the to-tower is..." Again my lover moans. "South."

I grind out a low chuckle. "Don't you worry, my sweet. That's where I'm headed right now." My tongue runs along the tip of him. Sweet. Salty. Jowan gasps upon feeling the wetness of my tongue curl around the end of his cock. For all the moisture in my mouth, my throat feels awfully dry. But I'm sure I will get my drink soon enough.

The hand he had previously wrapped around the base of his erection leaves to disappear into my hair, pulling my bun loose and spilling pins all over the place. My sight is obscured by dark strands falling around my face, but I don't need to see for what I'm about to do. Slowly I move my mouth lower down his rod, taking it in inch by inch. It's a marvel every time, the velvety soft feel of the skin here. My right hand lightly cups his testicles for that extra bit of stimulation, the left travels his body as it pleases. Up his arm, across his chest, down his stomach, along his thigh.

My efforts are well-received: hoarse moans, a breathless gasping of my name from time to time. It's so nice to know that your endeavours are appreciated. Moments later the typical throbbing begins and I am rewarded with a fierce, sexy groan and an astounding amount of almost sweet liquid to moisten my parched throat. Astounding, because we pretty much do it several times a day. And he's not even gone limp yet. Let's take advantage of that, shall we?

While his body is still shuddering with his release, I straddle his hips and lower myself over his still hard cock. A content sigh swiftly turns into a surprised moan. His eyes fly open, and what I see there kind of surprises me. Normally those eyes are a very pale blue, the colour of a frozen lake, but now they are dark. Almost like the night sky. For the first time I realize I've never properly looked into his eyes during our activities. Not that it matters all that much; the vehement twitching deep inside me, fingers digging into my flesh remind me I have better things to do.

I rock my hips back and forth, pushing him in a little deeper. We moan in almost perfect unison. My riding motions are slow; going up until he's almost out of me, then down again until this marvellous organ is buried in me all the way. Jowan seems to be unable to do much more than moan and enjoy himself. I adore watching him when he's like this, seeing his features contort with lust and pleasure. The knowledge that it is I who delights him so fills me with pride. Pride and pleasure, because having him in me is probably the best feeling I've ever had.

A faint pulsating announces my lover's impending climax, so I pick up the pace. Faster and faster I grind myself against him; it's obvious from his expression that it takes the poor thing all his strength not to cry out. Softly whimpering my name he spends himself in me for the second time tonight.

I settle myself next to him while he pants like an exhausted hound and take him in my arms. In turn he snuggles up to me, moulding his form to mine, resting his head on my breasts. "I love you, Jowan."

"And I love you, princess," he whispers breathlessly. His lips softly press a kiss above my heart. A pleasantly warm feeling builds up in my stomach. Ah. I'd almost forgotten what it feels like to be loved. Blindly I reach behind me to extinguish the light, wrapping the tent in darkness. Suddenly a hand tugs at the bandages around my arm. "Poor thing; you always get hurt," he says in a sad tone of voice.

"Shit happens. You know how it goes, the way we attract trouble." I've become so used to getting wounded by now; the pain is soon forgotten. And the scars? Why should I care? They add character, I think. Unmarred beauty isn't going to impress the archdemon. Although, if someone fights through an enormous horde and comes out without a scratch on them, I would be impressed. Alas! If only I had thought of it earlier! Woe is me! Just kidding; I still don't care.

"Would you like to learn blood magic?" my companion asks unexpectedly. "Might as well put that blood to good use."

I freeze. Blood magic? And offered so casually too? "Why would I want to do that? Look at where it's got you."

My lover chuckles in amusement. "Yes, it's so _terrible_ spending quality time with the sweetest, prettiest girl in all of Ferelden." I feel blood rushing to my face. "No, in all of Thedas. Impending doom or no, I am a happy man." Even in the darkness his lips find mine with ease. "All thanks to you. In any case, the offer stands." With a content sigh he cuddles up to me, even closer than before. His hand idly rests on my belly. Hmm, the baby has been so calm lately. Very still, apart from the odd kick or movement. It's going to be such a well-behaved little thing.

But, blood magic. It's true though, I do get hurt a lot. Most every time. And to be perfectly honest, I'm rather curious to this mysterious power my friend wields. It looks rather impressive. And painful. I'm going to have to think about learning it myself. Apparently it uses life force the same way it does mana. It would keep me away from those lyrium potions. Although I imagine draining myself of all blood isn't exactly good for the baby either. If Cullen knew I was considering this, he'd lop my head clean off. Good thing he's not here. "Jowse, are you asleep?"

"I was almost. Something wrong?" he groans sleepily.

My mind is made up. "I'd rather not learn any blood magic, sorry." I want to learn how to heal, like Wynne does. She's really, really good at it. My one healing spell only manages to close wounds. Broken bones stay quite broken.

I can feel him shrugging. "That's fine, sweetie. I just thought it might be useful. Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams, my love."


	106. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Battling the Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brrrrr...

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Battling the Cold

We've been on the road for a while now. I thought getting to Soldier's Peak would take a week, but it's only been three days. With the way Levi's going, however, it will take two weeks to get to the Warden base. Found the way, my ass. We got lost countless times in this maze of icy mining tunnels and now we're forced to spend the night in this cold. Oh happy day. Normally we'd start a fire, but that wouldn't be a very good idea in these tunnels I fear. Not enough ventilation.

As usual, Sten and Shale are unaffected by this temperature. Qunari are ridiculously sturdy creatures. All our bedrolls are close together to share the heat, and Leliana is sharing hers with Wynne. It rather reminds me of that night in the Wilds, closely nestled up to Daveth. Had I known Cullen and I would be no more, I would've been on that sexy thief like a kitten on milk. But imagine Wynne and Leliana getting it on. I would find that both hot and unnerving (what with the senior enchantress being an old woman and everything). Don't judge me; woman-on-woman love is intensely fascinating.

For some unknown reason, Alistair isn't bothered by this cold either. How does he do it? Wish I had an internal stove like that. This extra layer of fat on my bones is doing me a fat lot of good. Heh, being sandwiched between him and my lover would _certainly_ warm me up very well. Oh yes.

"Brrr, it's r-really fucking co-cold," Jowan swears, his voice really close to my ear.

I turn to face him. "So cold you're using language not meant for a gentleman such as yourself."

"F-f..." The poor boy's teeth are chattering fiercely. "F-fuck, fu-fuckity, fuck fuck fuck!" he manages to utter. "B-besides, I l-learned it from you!"

"You have a long way to go before you're a foul-mouthed sailor like me, sweetie." I trace his lips with my finger and notice they look rather off. "Oh no, you're turning blue. Come here." I rub his back with vigour to try and warm him. "A little better?"

Instead of giving me a spoken answer, he firmly presses his lips to mine, slides his tongue into my mouth. "S-so," he finally says, eyes misted over. "Want to do it?"

"Sure." Everyone looks to be asleep anyway. I yelp when an ice-cold hand touches my leg. " _Gah, your hands are freezing_!"

"Sorry." My lover grins apologetically. "Could you h-help me a little? This c-c-cold isn't doing me any good either." Ooh, he's tiny. This is a case of emergency! I begin casting Fire Ball, but immediately cut it off. The side-effect of this is that my hands are now toasty warm. When I touch his little wormy like that, he utters a content sigh and quickly grows. Magic makes life just a little better.

Fumbling like horny teenagers, we manage to make love quietly and without moving about too much. When we're finished, his body feels comfortably warm, as does mine. I nestle up to his chest with a feeling of great contentment. Sleeping will be much easier like this.

~*|'-'|*~

"And... here we are," Levi says in a satisfied voice. "Soldier's Peak. I told you the map would get us through the tunnels."

"You sure did." I look up at the impressive stone fortress. "Too bad you got us lost anyway."

The merchant frowns. "We weren't lost; it's just that the map got soggy." The frown turns into a scowl. "Bah, we're here." I can almost hear him think: 'So stop your complaining, woman.' And he's right. It's time to get down to business.

"Alistair? How many should we take?"

The Warden thoughtfully rubs his chin. "We could all go. Safety in numbers, right?"

"That's true. But I think it would be easier if we were only a small group. Five, tops." The unpleasant encounter with Loren's men really got me thinking. "Maybe just four. Why don't you choose who comes this time?"

He sighs. "Why ask me if you're not even going to listen? Fine." His eyes inspect the people all around us. "Wynne, Leliana, and..." Scratching his head, he makes his thinking noise. "And why don't you come along too, Jowan, so you don't have to start a dramatic scene like last time."

"Woo!" the mage yells, pumping his fist in the air. "I'm in!" He promptly throws his arms around me for a hug. A protesting squeak sounds from between us. "Oh! Sorry, Nugget." The nug has taken up residence in his robes. Jowan is lucky it's a small specimen; Schmooples is way too large to carry around like this. Ah, to live pressed up against my beloved for a large part of the day. Great fun.

"What are you so bloody happy about?" I glare at him. "If you get killed, I will never speak with you again. Ever."

He sticks out his tongue. "At least I will have some peace and quiet." A worried look appears on his face. "What am I supposed to do with Nugget? I can't take him with me."

"I will watch your pet," Sten offers unexpectedly.

"Er, all right. P-please make sure Shale doesn't squish him," Jowan says timidly.

Sten harrumphs. "You need not fear me, blood mage."

"Indeed," Leliana chimes in happily. "He is a big softie!" She smiles at the shocked silence. "I saw you playing with that kitten," the bard sings. "Come Schmooples, it's safe to stay with the big softie."

"You think you know someone," Shale comments dryly. Sten only grumbles; I could swear he was blushing, if that slight tinge of pink is any indication. The duo stay behind, two nugs cradled in the giant's massive arms. Who would've thought the silent, stoic warrior had such a gentle side to him?

The five of us and Levi continue on our path and end up in a massive courtyard. A strange sight greets us: the ethereal forms of soldiers are busily running about.

"Fall back, fall back already!" some guy yells. His diction marks him as some kind of nobleman.

Another answers: "Taking the Peak will not be easy, milord."

They go on to argue about how they will starve the Wardens and then swoop in to kill them. Sneaky. I have to say I actually approve of such a tactic. It takes lots of patience, but little work.

"What was that?" Levi wonders when the strange vision is over. "I'm not mad, am I? You saw it too?" He gives me a worried look.

"Well." I touch my fingers to his forehead. "I'm afraid so; you're mad, bonkers, off your head." His shocked expression is priceless. "Just pulling your leg. No, I saw it too." Murmurs from the others indicate it's no different for them.

"How is that possible?" the merchant breathes. "This place is truly haunted."

I shrug. "The Veil is probably thin here." Levi gives me a confused look. "The Veil? The thing that separates us from the Fade and demons?" The mention of demons sends the poor man into a mumbling fright.

Alistair looks around the courtyard. "Lots of dead bodies here." Most of them are no more than skeletons, covered with scraps of armour or cloth.

"I'll bet you a drink they get up and attack us the moment we are close enough." I hold out my hand to him.

With a wide grin he shakes it. "You're on!"

And of course I'm right. We approach, and the corpses rise with weapons in hand. Funny, I didn't notice they had them. Levi shrieks like a girl and hides just outside the gate while we ready ourselves for battle. I wish I were the one buying Alistair a drink, not the other way around.


	107. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Liberating the Wardens' Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Such an epic quest naturally deserves a suitably epic description.

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Liberating the Wardens' Base

After the grand tour of this lovely haunted fortress, we're finally in the courtyard again. Demons, visions of events past, undead, a possessed Warden-Commander and a fossil-like Grey Warden mage. Sophia Dryden was possessed by some demon, and of course it wanted to be free to roam the world. And feed. I played along with her, pretending to go and destroy the tower as she requested. Only then would she help to close the tear in the Veil, through which demons occasionally came.

In the tower we found this really, really old guy. Avernus. He was the resident scientist and blood mage, experimented on his fellow Grey Wardens to find a way to use the full potential of our tainted blood. I found his ghastly notes and some vile-smelling concoction. Naturally I drank it. Just kidding; I'm not quite that stupid. Who knows what might happen? Personally, I like to believe I'm potent enough as I am. Avernus told Levi about his great-great-grandmother; that she was fiery, charismatic and brave. That she was the best of all the Wardens. Sadly there was no proof of this, so I'm afraid the Drydens will not have their honour returned to them.

The merchant said his family had always said they were like lions. After which I envisioned him as one with a mane around his face and cat-like whiskers growing out of his cheeks, growling fiercely. His girl-like screaming during every fight did not quite conjure the image of ferocity, pride and nobility a lion would, but okay. In any case, the old man came with us to help kill the travesty Sophia Dryden had become and close the rift. I have to say, the old Warden-Commander had on the most beautiful set of armour I'd ever seen. So I took it with me. Once it's cleaned, it will look dead sexy on Alistair. Never mind that he is much taller and broader than she was; I'm sure it will fit anyway. Armour always fits; it's awesome like that.

"But what about Avernus?" you say. "Certainly you killed him for experimenting on his fellow Wardens and using blood magic." Yeah, about that. If I employed such logic, I'd have snapped Jowan's little neck ages ago. Or at least immediately brought him to the tower. So I made the old man use his remaining time alive to research ways to help the Wardens in a more ethical way. Nobody objected, case closed. The fossil is holed up in the tower as we speak. Hmm? What is this respect for the elderly you speak of?

"You've done it, Warden!" Levi appears to be pleased as punch. Sort of. "Soldier's Peak is safe again. That old geezer Avernus deserves the gallows if you ask me, but..." He shoots an uneasy look at the tower. "Well, if he does proper research, without the sacrifices and the blood magic and all, maybe he'll turn up something good. But there was no proof to redeem my family."

I pat him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry about that. But you could stop focusing on the past. Perhaps the future will offer this redemption you seek."

"For so long I've wanted answers," the merchant sighs sadly. "But I think I would've been better off had I stayed at home. Anyway, you've got a whole fortress now. I suppose I should start plying my trade again."

"Where? Trade's not exactly opportune with the Blight and the whole mess with Teyrn Loghain."

Levi shrugs. "I might use the Peak as a base of operations. No bandit would dare to come here." He looks appraisingly around the courtyard. "Nice place to store trade goods. You, of course, will get a sizeable discount!" The merchant beams, apparently happy to start selling and buying things again.

"Well." Alistair lays an arm around my shoulders. "Looks like we're done here. A demonic invasion thwarted, a Warden base safely rescued. We do good work."

~*|'-'|*~

"What have you done, golem?" Sten rumbles as we approach the two. I can see something red in his hands.

Shale shrugs noncommittally. "I had the uncontrollable urge to squish something."

Squish? Uh oh. I run up to the giant and find poor Nugget in his hands. He is covered in blood. I begin yelling at Shale. "Why did you do this? _What did Nugget ever do to you_?"

For a moment the golem is silent. Then she snorts loudly and begins laughing, collapsing onto the ground. "Oh, it should have seen its face!" she hiccups. "Priceless."

Nugget squeaks. Oh thank the Maker, he's still alive. Shale is still rolling around, laughing like a maniac. "Your pet is fine, Warden." Sten nods solemnly and hands him over. From the way the corners of his mouth are subtly turned upwards, I have to conclude that he finds it very amusing. "It was the golem who came up with this idea."

"Did... Did you two just play a prank on me?" I stare at them in shock. "And what is this red gloop?"

"It is the pigment the swamp witch smears on her face," the Qunari explains. "Diluted with water."

Shale gets back on her feet. "Ah, this is a much better use for it." I'm sure that she would be crying tears of laughter if she could.

"You two scared the living daylights out of me." I scratch Nugget between the ears. "You were in cahoots with them, weren't you?" Of course the nug makes no response; he doesn't do much besides eat, sleep, poop, twitch and squeak.

"Why is Nugget all red?" Jowan curiously looks over my shoulder. "Come here you." He gently takes the creature from my hands and hugs him. Apparently he doesn't mind getting all red himself. "You need a bath, my naked little friend."

"Ah yes, a bath!" Leliana exclaims. "I would love to soak in a hot, sudsy bath for an hour or two." She sighs dreamily.

I sigh right along with her. "I fully agree with you."

"Perhaps we could bathe together." The bard smiles sweetly. "We could wash each other's hair!"

Alistair and Jowan simultaneously utter: " _Oooh_!" Understandably the idea of two naked, glistening, soapy women washing each other's hair is very appealing. And while we're in there, something interesting might happen. Something like us kissing. Hmmm... Yeah... I enjoyed making out with Danny, so why not with her? Leliana is way cuter than she is anyway. And then there's the vague suspicion I also fancy women.

"Don't you boys get the wrong idea now," the bard chuckles.

Two sad faces. Make that three. "Aww..."


	108. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Trouble in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jowan says something that pisses off Astoreth to no end.

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Trouble in Paradise

With loud clanging noises Alistair steps out from the trees surrounding our camp and twirls around. "And? What do you think?"

It took me a while, but I finally managed to polish the Warden-Commander's armour until it shone like a mirror. I would've let Zevran do it, but alas, he isn't here and I was itching to see my colleague in this armour. Just as I had thought, the plate fits him like a glove. A very sexy glove. "Mmm, Alistair." I get up from my place by the fire and approach him. "You look so... Rawr." Biting my lip, I send him a seductive look.

"I... I..." His handsome face flushes, redder than I've ever seen it. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"Down, girl!" Jowan laughs. "Step away from there before you break him." He chuckles in unveiled amusement. This is what I mean about him not displaying any jealousy. Well, it's not like I was going to jump him or anything. Just playing.

"Wow." Alistair raises an eyebrow. "Nugget looks _faaabulous_ , Jowan."

Unfazed, the mage continues petting the nug. "Never mind him, Nugget." Instead of his usual pig-like hue, the animal is now adorned with rather bright pink splotches. He now looks like a weird kind of small cow, which made Shale laugh even louder. "Sticks and stones."

"Well." I'm in no mood for this banter. "The tower is coming dangerously close."

Jowan scoots a little closer and grabs my hand. "I'm sorry I have to leave you so soon," he murmurs.

"Right of Conscription," Alistair sings unsubtly.

"I don't want it," Jowan sings in return.

"We could make you," the Warden sings again.

"You and what army?" the mage sings his comeback.

I roll my eyes. "Enough with the singing, guys." That might have sounded more convincing if I weren't singing it myself. "Anyway, why do you insist on throwing your life away?"

"Ever since I lost Lily, I have nothing to live for." He sighs despondently.

"Nothing... to live for?" His words are like a sharp slap across the face. My feet begin running all on their own, surprised and alarmed shouts sounding behind me. How can he say something so cruel? Do I mean so little? Apparently so. A stabbing sensation in my side slows me down, until eventually my feet stop moving altogether. I sink down, my back against a tree. This area looks unfamiliar. Am I lost? Yes, I am. In more ways than one.

Suddenly all of it comes out. All the tears I should've been crying after Cullen left me. He abandoned me; even when we were apart, the thought of him brought me comfort. I never stopped loving him, and I probably never will. And Jowan, that stupid son of a bitch and his bloody Lily. I know I'm not some sweet, innocent, Chant-reciting flower, but surely I have some good qualities as well. He said I made him happy, and now this. It's like I've been ground into dust and spat upon. I'm such a big fat stupid idiot; I should've known my so-called friend and I were not meant to be lovers. If that were the case, it would have happened years ago. All this damned crying makes my throat sore; no wonder I'd decided to stop doing it.

Slowly the sobbing abates and I wipe away my tears. I hate crying, but apparently it's unavoidable. A better vow would be to never cry in the presence of others. Yes, I'll do that. I look up at the moon; it's almost full. Or was it just full? I always have trouble telling that. In any case, it's beautiful. Wasn't the moon like this too the night Cullen and I slept together for the first time? How brilliant he looked in that silver light. In the distance I hear rustling, and a calling of my name. Oh great, it's _him_. Just who I wanted to see.

"Tori?" Finally Jowan has found me. He crouches down. "I'm so-..."

"Shut the fuck up and get me back to camp." My voice is hoarse due to all the crying. Hoarse and dull. I abruptly slap his hand away when he reaches out for me. "Don't you dare touch me."

Again he reaches out to touch me, again I slap his hand away. "Please, I..."

"Are you deaf or stupid? I said shut up and don't touch me."

"No, listen to me." His hands grab a firm hold of my shoulders. Can't get away. Either he's stronger than I thought, or I am surprisingly weak. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that."

I scoff. "Sure you didn't, you bastard."

"I didn't. It was a poor choice of words, I mean..." He sighs. "If anything makes life worth living, it's you. Every time I wake up next to you, I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming, that's how amazing you are; and every day I feel like kicking myself, because I'd never noticed you before." Tentatively he lays his hand on my cheek; I let him. "But there is always the guilt, that Lily got punished because of me and that you had to be drafted into the Wardens. I just... I can't live with myself like that."

"Oh? You're doing a good job of hiding that, if it's true."

He chuckles ruefully. "Well yes, I can't keep on moping. I promised I would help you, so I am."

"If you need to get anything off your chest, you know I'm here for you, right?" I lay my hand over his and press a light kiss upon it. "I'm still your friend."

"I know, I know." My friend offers me a sad smile. "But you have enough problems of your own; surely you don't need the burden of mine."

I wrap my arms around him, pull him into my embrace. "Problems? Me? What, you mean this pesky Blight?"

"Well that, and the baby. The absence of its father. All those things." Jowan tightly wraps his arms around me in turn. "In light of that you shouldn't have to listen to the complaints of some idiot who messed up his entire life."

"I'm not so sure about that; lately you've been doing a lot of good." I rub my cheek against his. Prickly. "But you don't exactly have a way with words, my friend. Why oh why did you think that wouldn't offend me?"

He releases me to look into my eyes. "Obviously I wasn't thinking. Are you still angry with me?"

I quietly mull that over. Well, guilt I can understand. And of course hearing him say how he thinks I'm amazing helps a little too. "No."

"Good." My lover smiles in relief. "Alistair threatened to give me a black eye if I didn't make it up to you."

"You're not going to get a black eye. But you're not going to get laid tonight either."

Jowan courteously helps me up. "I understand." Ever so softly he kisses my lips. "I'm just happy you've forgiven me. I love you so much."

"I love you too." My hand automatically grips his. "Let's get going."


	109. Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Grey Warden Stamina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to kiss and make up.

### Bann Loren's Lands and Soldier's Peak - Grey Warden Stamina

Alistair is still sitting by the fire as we enter the camp. He immediately walks up to us, shooting Jowan a dark look. "Are you all right?" he asks me, concern in his voice.

"Yes, I'm fine now. It was all a misunderstanding." I brightly smile at my lover, so he knows we're all good now.

"Great. Off with you then, kiss and make up, or something." The Warden shoos us away.

Inside the tent I throw off my robes and immediately crawl into the bedroll. I'm a little tired. Soon Jowan snuggles up to me, just as naked. "You are so wonderful," he whispers in adoration. "Beautiful, powerful and kind. I'm sorry I never noticed you; it's just that to me you were always the little girl with the chocolate smudges on her face."

"Mmm, chocolate!" Those were good times. I always got a chocolate muffin from the kitchen staff, which I would invariably share with my best friend. He had better table manners, though.

My beloved laughs heartily. "Still crazy about it, are you? I don't really get why you girls always go batty for anything chocolate. It was Lily's only weakness. That and me, of course."

"Could you stop mentioning Lily? I know she was your first love, but..."

"First?" he cuts me off. "Lily wasn't my first love."

My interest is piqued. "Then who was? Someone I know?"

"Yeah." For some reason, he sounds sad. One would think the memory of one's first love would be a good one. "It was Daniela."

"That _bitch_! She knew I liked you!" Oh, wait. "Never mind, she didn't. The only one who knew that was my diary. So what went wrong?"

He shrugs. "I was madly in love with her, and I thought she felt the same. Then I found out she was sleeping with half of the tower's population. That _whore_." Still a tad bitter.

"Wow, really? No wonder she would never tell me who she did it with." I snicker under my breath. "If she would, she'd never stop talking!" Ahem, I better get more serious. "I'm sorry she did that to you. If I had known, I'd never have become friends with her."

"Oh, don't worry about that on my account." My dearest ruffles my hair. "She's all right as a friend. Besides, who were you going to talk about boys with? Me?" His face breaks into a happy grin. "And what was that about liking me?"

Ah, a little trip down memory lane. "Well, I just thought you were really cute. I mean, you are. Never mind, it's such a long time ago." So strange talking about that; somehow it makes me blush.

"Oh, how cute, you're all embarrassed," he gushes, covering my face with little kisses. "Who's my little princess? Yes, you are!"

"No, please stop that!" Talk about embarrassing. "So were you really sad after you found out Danny was such a slut?"

The kisses stop. "My heart was broken," he declares dramatically. "I almost wanted to give in to your constant pleas to sleep with you, but then I met Lily and all was well again. For a while, anyway."

I scowl. "Yes, about that: please stop talking about Lily. I know you love her, but it makes me feel... second best, I suppose." Chantry girl snatched him away from me, she did. And he was almost going to bed me too. She has good timing, I'll give her that.

"Fine, I'll never mention her again. If you stop flirting with Alistair," he retorts. "Do you like him better than me?"

I look into his face to find worry. "No, of course not. What makes you think I do?"

"Aside from the flirting? Well, obviously you have this thing for muscular templars, so this thin little mage feels threatened sometimes." Jowan sighs in dejection. "I'd hate to lose you to another man."

"Know this: I may flirt with Alistair from time to time, but I love _you_." I look into my sweetheart's wonderful eyes. "Everyone is beautiful in their own way, you know? And with your dark hair and pale eyes," I run my fingers through the silken strands and press a kiss above each eye, "and your lean, toned body you're absolutely gorgeous." I lay my hand upon his stomach to feel the taut flatness of it.

He blushes; such a sweet sight. "Really? Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do, you sexy, sexy thing you!" I wink. "I'm sorry about Alistair; you should've said so from the very beginning. I won't flirt with him anymore. Because I belong to you." And I mean it. Time for me to stop laying my hands on my colleague every chance I get. "If you don't realize this by now, I suppose I should tell you." I bend down to place a heated kiss down the side of his neck. "I also have a thing for skinny mages," I softly whisper into his ear. And I aim to prove my love for him too. "I'd been watching you, you know. About six years ago it started. At night I would fantasize about you, feeling your warm body on mine, your hard cock deep within me..." My hands have already begun caressing his delightfully soft skin. I can't resist. Weakling! "My love, I've wanted you _so_ badly..." It cannot be helped: my hands easily find the right bits to play with, to make him mewl like a puppy.

"I-I thought we weren't going to do anything tonight?" my lover queries. He sounds both amused and aroused.

I move my lips down to his chest, kissing and nipping. "Yeah, well, who was I kidding?" I smile up at him as I stroke my most favourite toy, eliciting a sharp gasp from its owner. "Now that you're mine, I'm going to wear you out." My darling had better brace himself, because I'm going to keep him up all night. Hooray for Grey Warden stamina!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the adventures of Astoreth and co. as they conquer Soldier's Peak (or go through several side quests, whatever you prefer).


	110. Return to the Circle of Magi - Eternity Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our adventurers are on their way to the Circle, with a nug for Cullen. Among other things.

### Return to the Circle of Magi - Eternity Here

"Hmmm..." With a content look on his face, Jowan emerges from between my thighs. "I could spend eternity right here," he declares dramatically, lazily twirling a finger around my still sensitive button.

My breathing has returned to normal, the fuzziness in my head lifted slightly. "How many times was that now?"

"Five times." He grins happily. "Only a few more, and then I'll give you what you want."

"Darling please, just give it to me now." I'm never too proud to beg. "I need to feel you in me..."

My lover slowly shakes his head, a naughty look in his eyes. "No... I will do with you whatever I like. You should be happy I give you this kind of attention." With a wicked smile he slowly pushes two fingers into me, making me almost purr with delight. "Did your templar ever spend hours on making you finish again and again?"

"No, he didn't." Not that he ever had the time for that. "Carry on."

I shudder when his breath brushes my most sensitive area. "Do you remember my lucky number?"

"What, _nine_?" I prop myself up on my elbows to shoot him an incredulous look. "You want to make me come four more times and bring the counter up to nine?"

"No." His face breaks into a devilish grin, narrowing his eyes to slits. "I'm going to make you come nine more times." And with that he dives between my thighs once more. Whatever I wanted to say is swiftly eradicated under the ministrations of his skilled tongue. Why would I want to complain? He's right; I should be happy he gives me this kind of attention. I am, really. Makes me melt into a quivering, mewling little puddle of mindless pleasure. Wears me out. Helps me sleep and keeps away the dreams about darkspawn. So nine orgasms later, I'm panting like a dog and barely conscious. Jowan positions himself behind me, gently coaxing me onto my side, and carefully runs a hand over my breasts. His lips cover the back of my neck with light kisses. "Do you still want me?" He teasingly rubs the tip of his erection between my lips.

I buck my hips in his direction, slightly pushing him in. "Damn right I do." I crane my neck for a kiss. "You know I _always_ want you."

With a slight chuckle he fully eases into me. "I'd make love to you all day long if I could." His hand moves down to caress my belly. "You've become so big and round," he murmurs affectionately into my ear. "Lovely."

"You think so?" I arch my back and tilt my pelvis so he can get in deeper. "That's so, _ooh_ , sweet of you." Time for me to shut up; I can't really talk with that fine, wonderful, fantastic... Oh my. Oh _yes_.

Afterwards my love snuggles up to me, sighing contently. "Satisfied?" he queries.

"Yes, I'm well pleased with your performance, my sweet." My eyes quickly fall shut after this delicious treat. "Goodnight."

"I think we should stop doing this at some point," Jowan muses.

I suddenly don't feel so sleepy anymore. "Say what now? You really expect me to live without sex? _I would die_!"

"Aren't you exaggerating just a little bit?" He chuckles. "It's just that you're very far along and it might bother the little one."

"Oh?" I roll over to face him. "What do you know of babies and pregnancies?"

He shrugs. "Not much. But better safe than sorry, right?"

"True..." I cradle my belly in my hands. "I wouldn't want to hurt my precious little pumpkin, no, I wouldn't!" What will this child look like? Like me? Like Cullen? Like the both of us? I'm anxious and a little scared to find out, because ejecting something very large from my vagina sounds awfully unpleasant. But no doubt it will be worth having my own sprout, a little human that I can take care of and raise. I never thought I would become a mother. A big old fool like me. The more I think about it, the more I feel sorry for this child.

Jowan laughs joyfully. "That's so sweet. You'll make a great mom." He bends to lovingly kiss my forehead.

"You think so, really?" I sigh. "I often fail so hard at life, it's a bloody miracle I'm still here."

He scoffs. "Don't be silly. I've seen you in action; you're doing fine. And if all else fails, you can always try hiding behind Alistair or something."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he would gladly defend you with his life," he chuckles. "He really adores you, you know that?"

Interesting. "Is that so?" Not that I didn't know already; his doting on me kind of gives it away.

"Sure is. Whenever we're standing guard together it's 'Astoreth this, Astoreth that'. Kept talking about how you comforted him after it turned out his sister was a bitch and how great it was you went out of your way to save the arl's family, blah, blah, blah..." Jowse rolls his eyes and laughs to himself.

I press my cheek against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. "So instead of making sweet love to you, he goes off on a rant about me? Shame."

"Oh, still with the fantasies of us, little pervert?" He gleefully messes up my hair. "You are incorrigible."

Oh no. Thinking of Alistair tenderly kissing Jowan and then going a bit further has awakened strong feelings of longing in me. Just the suggestion makes me so bloody horny. Well, if I can't have him in me, there are other ways of having fun with a man. I push him onto his back and slide under the covers. How I love showering his beautiful body with kisses.

"Tori, what are you...?" What was probably going to be 'doing', quickly turns into a pleasantly surprised moan as my tongue goes to work. Why does he even ask? He should know what I'm all about by now. So let's see if I can make _him_ come fourteen times.


	111. Return to the Circle of Magi - Donning the Velvet Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some banter before they actually go into the tower.

### Return to the Circle of Magi - Donning the Velvet Hat

My poor darling only got up to six and then literally passed out. Same thing the next few nights, heh. Imagine the possibilities if he were to become a Grey Warden too. Not only would he stay on with us, but he and I could make love for hours, nay days on end! Sounds great. Sadly it's not meant to be. We're back again, looking up at the phallus rising out of Lake Calenhad that's been our home for so long. After Morrigan's comment, I can never look at that tower the same way again. Penis.

Shale looks the building up and down. "Is this where the mages are imprisoned?"

"You said it." I nod. "But this is where the Circle of Magi is based, yes."

The golem laughs and turns to Sten. "I am told that the Qunari put mages on leashes. Leashes! What a delightful concept!" Naturally she would find that amusing. I don't think I'd like being led around by a leash, although some might find the notion titillating. Jowan on a leash, tee hee. As if he's not my pet already.

"It is not something that one should take pleasure in. It is done because it is necessary," the giant replies gravely.

"Here we are," Jowan murmurs beside me, turning my attention away from the discussion between Sten and Shale. "Greagoir is probably itching to scream at me."

"Knowing how angry he was at your flight, probably." I take his hand in mine. "So, do you think you will be executed, or made tranquil? You're still an apprentice, after all."

He raises an incredulous eyebrow at me. "Yes, let's speculate about how I will meet my end, shall we? Maybe there is some special punishment for blood mages who lead innocent sisters astray. Like quartering, or..."

"Oh come on, the Chantry isn't _that_ barbaric," Alistair mingles into the conversation. "I'd put my money on beheading or hanging."

"So at least it will be quick." I thread my fingers through his and rest my head against my lover's shoulder. "We're making light of this now, but I will miss you."

My hand is released so he can draw me into a tight hug. "I know, my love. I'm sorry."

"I'm going to miss you too," Alistair adds morosely. "You're a good listener."

Jowan laughs heartily. "I don't have a choice about that, do I?" Even with what is going to happen to him, he is bright and cheery. "But seriously, I will miss our conversations."

"Our one-sided conversations, you mean?" Alistair returns sourly. The boys move on to one of their friendly bickering sessions.

Leliana appears beside me. "They get along so well." She smiles. "I will miss your friend; he has proven himself a good man over the course of our adventures, no?"

"So he has." The closer we get to his end, the worse I feel. The more I want to invoke that Right of Conscription to save him. But then he would feel guilty about still being alive, and I would feel guilty for making him feel guilty and then he would feel even guiltier because I feel so guilty and we would all be caught up in our own little vicious cycle of guilt. Not a good idea. He got to see the world a bit, have some near-fatal adventures and experience crazy lovemaking sessions with me. I suppose he's led a decent life.

"Is there truly nothing you can do for him?" Wynne lays her hand upon my arm and shoots me a worried look. "Will you be all right?"

Somehow I manage to smile at her. "What do you think I have been doing all this time? I will be all right. Thank you for your concern, Wynne. We will probably have to wait for the others so they can say goodbye." I roll my eyes. "No doubt Oghren will want to pelt him with some more innuendo. Tapping the midnight still. Forging the moaning statue..."

"Bucking the forbidden horse," Leliana adds with a giggle.

Wynne laughs. "Polishing the footstones." She snorts loudly. " _Donning the velvet hat_!" Before long, us girls are rolling over the ground, giggling like maniacs.

"Hey, what are they having so much fun about?" Alistair asks with a tone of jealousy in his voice.

"Nothing it would understand, I'm sure." Apparently Shale has joined the 'Alistair is stupid'-faction that Morrigan is the president of.

Sten shrugs. "The women were exchanging innuendo the dwarf told them."

"Oh, things like buttering the southern pony?" Jowan giggles to himself.

"Why would you want to put butter on a horse?" The Warden sounds very confused.

My mage bursts out laughing. "For flavour! But I'm sure Astoreth will tell you all you need to know about that in the time to come." Well, that's presuming a lot. Although I might...

"Oh, good! I could use some cooking tips." Alistair beams; he still has no idea. Cute. "How about we go to the inn and get a couple of rooms?"


	112. Return to the Circle of Magi - Return of the Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zevran, Morrigan, Oghren and Stubbs have finally returned with Sten's sword.

### Return to the Circle of Magi - Return of the Sword

Later that night I hear a knock on the door of the room Jowan and I share. We spent the entire day the same way we did when we were kids, just lying in bed and talking about everything. Nugget was scurrying about the bed, strangely enough, sometimes squeaking. As if he knew something big was about to happen. I whined about how I wanted strawberries and cream, and Jowan complained about the lack of good snacks here. Andraste's tits, we're like a couple of old geezers reminiscing about the good old days. And in a way, we are. I _feel_ really old anyway.

Ugh, I don't even want to get out of bed. But the knocking continues. "Yes yes, I'm on my way." Halfway there I double over; another one of those odd cramps I've occasionally been getting all day. They don't hurt though. I've also been leaking some weird slimy fluid, from my girly bits. It's so embarrassing, and I have no idea what in Thedas this means. Hope I didn't catch some terrible contagious disease or anything.

Outside I find a familiar party of four. Stubbs barks happily and wags his tail as soon as he sees me. "Doggie!" I get on my knees to hug him. "Hey guys, how was your trip?" The other three look very, very tired.

"Never leave me alone with these two again!" Morrigan cries out indignantly. "If it hadn't been for your beast, I would have killed them."

Oghren scoffs, simultaneously leering at the witch. "It's not my fault you choose to walk around like that."

"Surely you had _some_ fun, dear Morrigan." Zevran chuckles and attempts to curve an arm around her waist. His hand is immediately slapped away.

"Do you see what I have had to put up with?" If looks could kill... "And my reward?" Morrigan impatiently holds out her hand to me.

I chuckle and remove the row of tiny bangles from around my wrist. A while ago I found them somewhere, these delicate gold and silver bracelets. Probably in an abandoned chest or something. Maybe I barged into someone's house and stole a family heirloom; I can't quite remember. "Here you are."

She immediately slips them around her own wrist and shakes them, listening to the tinkling noise they make. "This will do."

"Glad you like them. If you wish to retire for the night, Leliana and Wynne are right next door."

"Goodnight, Astoreth." Haughtily ignoring the others, she makes to leave. Stubbs whines pitifully and bumps his head against her hand. With a deep sigh Morrigan scratches him between the ears. "And you too, dog." Finally she gets to retire, leaving behind a happily panting hound. He really likes her.

I eye the large sword Zev is carrying in his arms. It does look similar to the one I bought near Orzammar. "You were obviously successful. How'd it go?"

"Such an unpleasant character that Dwyn was." The elf scowls. "But when our fine dwarven friend here threatened to chop him in half, he became far more agreeable."

"Speaking of which, where is my booze, woman?" Oghren demands gruffly.

I slowly rise to my feet, with a lot of effort. "Give me a moment."

As soon as I'm standing, the dwarf grins. "Whoa Warden! Look at those chest hams!" With a lewd chuckle, his eyes become plastered to my chest. I'm so glad I repaired Cullen's old shirt, let me tell you. As quickly as my heavy legs can carry me, I retrieve the bottle of Chasind mead I was saving for a special occasion. "Much obliged." Oghren gleefully takes the alcoholic beverage from me and moves into the common room.

"You didn't run into too much trouble, did you?"

Zevran shakes his head. "No, there was no trouble. Our expedition was almost insultingly easy."

"Good." I take the sword from him. It's really bloody heavy. "I'll give this to Sten then. Coming?"

"Certainly! I would love to see any kind of reaction from that man." The Crow laughs heartily. "If I may say so," he adds as we walk over to where the men sleep, "you look very voluptuous."

I roll my eyes. "I'm two people; of course I'm voluptuous."

"I meant in a deadly sex goddess kind of way." His hand reaches out to pet my round belly. From his joyful smile, I would guess that he really likes that.

"Do you have some kind of fetish for pregnant women, Zev?" It wouldn't surprise me. Pervert. But look who's talking.

He shrugs. "I might. And what if I did, hmm?" His arm snakes around my waist, his warm hand resting very low on my hip. Such boldness.

"I would be ever so flattered." I wink and blow him a kiss. Kind of a stupid answer, seeing how it's only my pregnancy that would be sexy in that case and not me, but judging from the way he perks up, at least he thinks it's a good answer. It was very mean of me, snubbing him the way I've done. And now that he has travelled all that way at my behest, I should be a little nicer. Not that this means I will let him into my bed now. Nope.

"And what of _my_ reward?" His scent of sweet spices surrounds me as he brings his face close to mine. How handsome he is. "Perhaps you have something special in mind?"

I gently push him away a little. "I'm sorry; see, Jowan and I..."

"Oh, that is right, we are here to hand him over to your Circle, yes?" Zevran gives me a slightly worried look. "And then what? It is obvious he is more to you than just a means of relieving tension."

"Indeed." I can't help but look a little sad. "He's been my best friend for most of my life, and when he's gone, I will be crushed. But I'll get over it. Alistair knows, so you can claim your money now, by the way."

The hand on my hip disappears to awkwardly pat my back. "Then forgive me my lack of respect. I will stop bothering you." With a slight cackle the assassin rubs his hands together. "For now. Finally I win my bet! How did he find out?"

"Jowan kissed me right in front of everyone and brought our affair to light." Just thinking of that colours my cheeks red. "He's always had a flair for drama. Anyway," I look at the door before me, "why don't you go in first and make sure nobody is naked or anything."

He raises a curious eyebrow. "Are you sure? If I were you, I wouldn't mind seeing Alistair naked at least." Snickering under his breath, he continues: "Being me, I don't even mind."

" _Oh_ , is that why Oghren calls you a pipe-cleaner?" Well, this certainly opens up all kinds of possibilities. Too bad Jowan isn't into other men, or the three of us could have so much fun together. Or I could watch them having fun. Hehehehe...

"Yes. Does that bother you?" His tone is some kind of mixture between worry, light heartedness and accusation.

I laugh. "Certainly not! I find it rather intriguing." I gesture toward the door. "After you."


	113. Return to the Circle of Magi - Uh Oh...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cramps, you say? Nope. Those aren't cramps.

### Return to the Circle of Magi - Uh Oh...

Zev quietly opens the door, peeks in and gestures me to follow. Alistair is just a human-shaped, snoring lump under the covers and Sten is still awake, giving his blade a good polish. Stubbs immediately bounds in to greet his friend. "You have returned," the giant concludes solemnly, giving the dog a friendly pat on the head. Stubbs licks his hand and immediately gets onto the bed to cuddle up to Alistair. Silently Sten stares at me.

"Surprise." I present him his sword; thank goodness it's sheathed. But this time, he takes it from me almost reverently.

"Strange." The man looks down on it, seemingly deep in thought. "I had almost forgotten it." Directing his gaze to me, he says: "I would thank you for this, if I knew how." His hand caresses the blade, probably unconsciously.

I nod. "You're wel..." Wincing, I double over. This one did hurt. "Sorry, I've been having cramps all day. Anyway, you're welcome."

Zevran puts his hand on my shoulder. "Cramps, you say?"

"Yeah. They were few and far between earlier today, but..."

"I don't think you're having cramps," the elf says hesitantly. "The baby is probably on its way."

Sten promptly picks me up and races into my room. "Out of the way, blood mage," he commands Jowan, who is for some reason occupying the bed diagonally. "Your woman is about to give birth."

My lover starts awake. "Already?"

"Seems the nine months are over." Somehow I expected this would hurt more. "Could you get Wynne for me?"

The Qunari carefully lays me down as Jowan jumps out of bed to call the old lady. "Are you in pain, Warden?" This display of care is rather odd, but you won't hear me complaining.

"No, not yet." I lay my hands around my belly. "But I bet I will be."

Moments later Wynne comes in with a worried look on her face, all the others in tow (except for Oghren, who is probably drinking himself into a stupor). Some look very, very sleepy. "How are you feeling, child?"

"I'm fine for now." I give her a thumbs up. "So what will happen? Can you tell me?"

"Your contractions will come more often en become more painful..." Wynne appears to be digging into her memory for these lovely facts. "It might take a few hours. Perhaps an entire day."

_What_? "A _day_? I..." Suddenly I feel very, very wet. Uh oh. "Say, Wynne?" I beckon her to come closer and whisper into her ear: "This is quite embarrassing, but I think I just peed myself." And here comes another contraction. Ouch.

"Your waters must have broken. Everybody out!" the old lady cries. "We need more privacy here."

Under several wishes of good luck my friends exit the room; all save my beloved. "Can I stay?"

"Only if you'll hold my hand." Despite the pain, I feel my lips stretch into a smile as he grabs my hand.

"Jowan, make yourself useful," Wynne commands. "Try finding some towels and hot water."

Reluctantly he leaves the room to do as he is told. I grab all of the pillows and prop them under my back to be more comfortable. Another delightful spasm racks my body. _Argh_!

"I'm sorry, my dear, but I'll have to be very intrusive." The old lady peers between my legs, probes me with her fingers. "You seem to be doing well."

Momentarily Jowse walks back in, a large tub of steaming water in his hands, towels slung over his arms and shoulders. "How are you doing, sweetie?"

"I'm in pain! _Come here and hold my hand, damn it_!" This time I can't hold back a scream. This is not going to be pleasant.


	114. Return to the Circle of Magi - New Arrival in Thedas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventurers welcome a new, if a bit useless, addition to the team.

### Return to the Circle of Magi - New Arrival in Thedas

And so it is done. Months of inconvenience followed by hours of pain and moments of agony have resulted in the tiny creature contently suckling my breast. It was all worth it. My son, my perfect little angel. It's funny, you know. Previously I'd always thought I could never love anyone more than I do Cullen and Jowan, but now I know I was wrong. I love my child so much it's like my heart is flowing over with affection. We have a bond, this little fellow and I.

The boy has my nose and mouth, and his father's chin. For now his eyes are too small to see properly, but I bet that when they have fully opened, they will prove to be the same warm chestnut brown as Cullen's. For now he only has some fuzz on his head, so there is no telling what colour hair he will have. It wouldn't surprise me if it would turn out to be copper. Thankfully, he isn't tainted at all, even though I was already pregnant at the time. This truly is a blessing. I don't think I've ever been happier than I am now. Over the moon.

Jowan lays an arm around my shoulders, presses a soft kiss on my cheek. "I'm so proud of you. Look at the beautiful child you've brought into this world." He reaches out to carefully stroke my baby's dirty face. My little angel needs a bath.

"Thank you for staying by my side all this time." My voice is hoarse from all the screaming I've done. Some of it was about how I would never let a man near me again. It was a heat of the moment thing, naturally. Wynne was kind enough to take care of my wounds down there (I think I tore something, because she stitched me up), so I'm good now. Just very wide in the vaginal department. And my gut's all flabby. Ew.

My darling smiles. "Anything for you, my love." He's glowing with pride, almost as if he fathered this child himself. Well, he did get to cut the umbilical cord, which is apparently the father's job.

"Wynne, thank you so much for getting me through this." In response the old lady smiles at me as she cleans off her hands. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

"Don't be silly, my dear." She waves her hand dismissively. "It was no trouble. Shall I let the others come in? They will want to see your baby, I'm sure."

In the meantime the little one has stopped feeding. He's contently smacking his lips. How adorable my precious pumpkin is. I get him into an upright position against my shoulder and rub his back. No idea why, I just know I'm supposed to do it. Then he burps loudly. "Aw, good boy. Sure, they can come in." It's going to be crowded with everyone in here. Morrigan and Alistair might start fighting and before you know it, death and dismemberment. Still, it is awfully pleasant to be surrounded by friends. And people you've been around long enough to tolerate.

My companions trickle in and begin spouting out praise about the baby pell-mell. Very soon the room is a cheerful disorder. "Guys!" I manage to yell above the din. "Calm down and come see him one by one."

They neatly line up in a single file, with the exception of Alistair and Morrigan, who are fighting to be in line before one another. Eventually the witch wins; ever the gentleman, that Alistair.

The first to come is Leliana. She claps her hands and squeals. "How cute!" Making all kinds of cooing noises, she scratches the little boy under his chin. The baby remains unfazed and just seems to be studying her intently. It's amazing how calm he is; Wynne had to slap his bottom several times before she could get a noise out of him. But he's healthy, and that's what is most important. "Born merely moments ago and so well-behaved already," the bard chuckles. "Congratulations, dearest one. Your son is absolutely darling." After a hug she finds herself a spot on the bed to sit and admire the baby from a small distance.

"For all your screaming earlier, you look pleased with yourself, Grey Warden." Sten looks at my child. The child looks back. "Strange. He is very quiet." After another staring contest, the Qunari finally declares: "I approve."

"At least it doesn't cry and wail." Shale shrugs. "I have nothing else to say about it." She lumbers away, mumbling under her breath. I pick up the words 'squishable' and 'tiny'; better keep my child away from her.

Stubbs bounces onto the bed, next to Leliana. He gives my son a thorough sniffing, making curious whining noises all the while. "This is my baby, Stubbs." I scratch him between the ears. "My puppy, if you will." He barks in understanding and nuzzles the little one's face.

Zevran joins the party too, but instead of looking at the baby, he stares at my bosom. "Hmm, well done," he drawls absently. "When are you going to breastfeed?"

" _Zev_!" I slap his arm. "I thought you said you were going to stop bothering me?"

"Oh, yes." He chuckles and looks at the newborn. "Hello there, little man. I rather envy you." Another leering look at my chest. Incorrigible.

Beside me Jowan snickers. "Well, aren't you popular?"

"Oh woohoo, I'm tickled pink." I roll my eyes. "Hooray and stuff. So how did you know that the baby was about to arrive?"

The assassin shrugs. "I grew up in a whorehouse; pregnancies were rare, but they happened. Once I had the dubious honour of being present when one of the women was giving birth." A furious shudder goes through him, while his face unconsciously twists in disgust.

"A whorehouse, aye?" Interesting. "You must tell me more about that later."

Before he can answer, Morrigan shoves him out of the way. "Let me see..." She looks curious and is smiling, which I don't see very often. "'Tis such a beautiful child." Her yellow eyes are glittering with joy as she carefully caresses the little one's cheek. "You have done well, my friend." In an uncharacteristic display of affection, the witch bends down to embrace me.

"Thank you, Morrigan." I have no idea what else to say. The woman keeps surprising me.

And finally, Alistair. My fellow Warden kneels by the side of the bed. "He has your nose," he says happily, tickling the little one's nose with his finger. When the child unexpectedly grabs a hold of his finger with his tiny hands, Alistair laughs. "So how are you? It sounded like you were in serious pain."

"Oh, you could say that." I chuckle and run my fingers through my son's fuzzy hair. "Imagine squeezing out a melon through your penis, and you'll know more or less how it feels."

The Warden winces. "Ew, that bad?" His face pulls into a pained expression. At least the boy knows how to empathize with someone. "But the question is, what will you name him?"

"Yes, what will this little darling's name be?" Leliana coos, playing around with his little toes.

"Collin!" I blurt out. It just popped into my head, like some kind of an epiphany, but it feels like a good name. "In honour of the boy's father and the only other Grey Warden in Ferelden, I'm going to call him what _you_ think his father is called."

Alistair smiles and touches his hand to his chest. "Really? I'm so glad I could help."

Subsequently the room is filled with congratulations and calling of the newborn's name, until Wynne comes in and shoos everyone away. "Our new mother needs her rest." Under her arm she has a large, paper-wrapped package. Well, my curiosity is piqued.

I get some more hugs, the baby gets touched a little more and out all my companions (who aren't Jowan and Wynne) go. "I have a little gift for you, my dear." With a bright smile the senior enchantress hands me the package.

"For me? I should be getting _you_ a gift!" Nevertheless I tear the paper open. Out of the wrapper come some amazing robes, simply amazing. Different shades of blue. Corseted waist, which is very convenient for me right now. Fur shrug, matching stockings, the works! "Maker's breath, Wynne, this is beautiful! And the enchantments on it are awesome." This is by far the best enchanted piece of clothing I've ever seen.

"It is just a little something I picked up for you in Denerim," the old lady says shyly. "You deserve something nice after all you've been through." She softly strokes Collin's tummy. "He's so beautiful."

I blink away a tear. "I don't know what to say, Wynne. Thank you so much. For everything." Oh great, now I'm getting all emotional.

"It was my pleasure." She bends down to press a motherly kiss on my forehead. "Now rest, and I will see you tomorrow. Goodnight, children."

"Goodnight," my love and I say in unison. After another affectionate look at the adorable little fellow she helped bring into the world, Wynne exits the room.

Jowan, who was resting his head against my shoulder, yawns. "Aren't you tired?"

"Tired? No, actually." I chuckle. "I feel very energetic." It's strange, considering how my body has taken a beating today. Suddenly I feel a pair of little hands tugging my shirt. "Are you hungry again, pumpkin?" As soon as I've bared my breasts, he immediately latches onto the left like his life depends on it. This nursing doesn't feel like anything, except for maybe a slight tingling sensation, but it does alleviate the heaviness in my chest.

"Oh, I could watch that for hours." My lover looks intently at the baby and what he's doing. Apparently he's not so sleepy anymore. "I wonder what it tastes like."

I shrug. "It's probably not so different from cows' milk. Why? Do you want to taste it?"

"Definitely. And I want to drink it straight from you." There is a plea in his eyes, and more than a hint of desire. "Please? Just one sip?" Under the sheets, his hand caresses my thigh.

Ah... I swear, if my genitals weren't torn to ribbons earlier today, I would be riding his cock right now. But Wynne warned me not to have any sexual intercourse for a few weeks for me to mend properly. The baby has pushed away my breast and so I lay him over my shoulder again for a burp. "I'm not sure if I should let you; they're Collin's food source now, you know."

"Please, mommy?" Jowan begs in a child-like voice. "He won't mind. Look, he's almost asleep."

True enough. The little one is opening his mouth wide and yawning, barely able to keep his eyes cracked open. Very soon his little chest is rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. "Very well then, one sip. Just one."

My lover immediately closes his lips around my right nipple, sucking gently. Apparently it takes him a while to get a good mouthful. Or he's doing it as slowly as he can because he likes having my nipple in his mouth. Eventually he swallows audibly and licks his lips, a pensive look on his face. "No, it doesn't taste like cows' milk. It's much sweeter." He grins. "I like it!"

"So glad you approve." I look down on my son's sleeping face, then at Jowan's. A new life begins, and another ends. "I will see you off to the tower tomorrow."

"Thanks." He yawns and cuddles up to me. "I'm glad I could be there to help you through this, and to see your little boy."

I rest my head against his. "I'm glad you stood by my side. You're always there for me. What will I do without you?"

"You're going to end this Blight and raise Collin to be a good person." He cups my face in his hands to press a tender kiss to my lips.

Just then I hear the door creaking, and Oghren stumbles in. "Oh, so _that's_ what all the screaming was about," he jabbers. No doubt all that mead has gone down his gullet. Casually he saunters up to the bed for a look. "Aw, look at you!" Gushing and cooing, the dwarf tickles Collin's chin. "Cuuuuute." Well, what do you know. Babies apparently bring out the doting fool in everyone. The child's nose wrinkles in what looks like disgust, a frown appearing on his face.

"Well, there's clearly nothing wrong with his sense of smell." Jowan's voice is nasal from pinching his nose shut against the alcoholic vapours that have apparently soaked into Oghren's pores.

The dwarf shoots him a disdainful look. "At least the kid is lucky not to look like _you_ ," he scoffs. "Yeah, you look like your hot mom, don't you?" Grinning like an idiot, he continues petting the baby. "Boy or girl?"

"Boy." Aw, seeing the tough warrior like this brings a smile to my face. "His name is Collin, after his dad."

Oghren looks at me in confusion. "How'd you figure that? I thought his name was Johnny, or Jimmy or something."

"It's Jowan," the mage corrects him. "And he's not my child."

"No?" The dwarf hums thoughtfully. "Then why are you with her? Damaged goods, a woman with some other guy's kid."

My lover lays an arm around my shoulders and grins. "Just look at her. How could I resist?"

"True." A selfsame grin appears on Oghren's face as well. "I'm not sure if I could pass up a gal like that myself."

I look at the both of them in turn. "I'm... right here, you know." And flattered.

"Yeah, that you are." Uttering his typical lewd chuckle, the red-haired horror's gaze travels down my face, right into my cleavage. The nerve. "Well, I'm off to bed. And don't forget: I want a front row seat at your next breastfeeding."

"Hope springs eternal, Oghren. Goodnight." Like I'd ever let him watch me like that. Without answering, the dwarf teeters out.

"And that was our comic relief." Jowan laughs. "It's been a long day, love, we should probably get some sleep." He kisses my cheek and nestles into the pillows. "Goodnight."

I look down on him, lying there so peacefully. "I'm not sleepy yet, so I might be up a while. Sweet dreams, Jowse." Not long after a non-committal grunt, his breathing tells me he's asleep. How does he do it? No doubt there will be death waiting for him in Kinloch Hold. And apparently he's not too shook up from it. I wonder if Nugget will miss him. I know I will. It's sad that Collin will probably never know the one man who has played such a major part in my life. And he will probably never meet his father either. Cullen's not stupid, he would recognize this child as his own. And then who knows what might happen? Nothing good, I imagine. Better that I not let him see this little angel. Then there's the fact that a child born to a mage of the Circle automatically belongs to the Chantry. No way I'm letting those people get their hands on my son.

All you need is your mom anyway, right, pumpkin? I caress the baby's face; the frown disappeared as soon as Oghren was out of smelling distance, back into a blank expression. No matter what happens, he will be the one man in my life I can count on. And he can always count on me. I cradle the little one close to my chest, press a kiss on his forehead. Welcome to Thedas, little Collin Amell.


	115. Return to the Circle of Magi - Baby's First Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a bath and some presents.

### Return to the Circle of Magi - Baby's First Bath

Baby's first bath! I made sure the water wasn't too hot, just pleasantly warm. Collin is resting on my arm (so he won't get in too deep and drown), visibly enjoying the soft cloth rubbing his tummy. Yesterday he was still a bit blue and dirty from all the blood and other icky things, but now he's all rosy pink. Even his eyes have opened a little farther. Long, pretty lashes, just like his dad. And just like I thought: chestnut brown. He's such a handsome boy, yes he is. Just look at those tiny fingers, and those tiny toes. The cutest thing I'll ever see. "Yes, you like bathing, don't you?" I run the cloth over his arm. "You're awfully quiet, Collin."

And as usual there is no response. Not even a little one. Well, if I keep talking, eventually he'll start too. Oh yeah, that reminds me. No more swearing in front of the baby. Before you know it, his first word will be "fuck" or something. That would make me a bad mother, wouldn't it? I lift my child from his bath and wrap him in a towel. Damn, why didn't I buy baby clothes? I'm such a fool. A knock on the door. "Yes?"

Leliana cracks the door open and peers in. "May I come in?" After my nod she slips into the room. Another paper-wrapped package! "I have something for you."

"Oh my, I should give birth more often." I give her Collin so I can tear the paper to shreds. "Wow, thank you!" Baby clothes. "I didn't have any yet, thank you so much. And they're so cute too." A sunny yellow colour. Very soft. Perfect clothes for my perfect little boy.

"You are welcome." The bard is reverently rocking my baby, a delighted look on her face. "There is also something else I should have given you long ago, but I kept forgetting it." She hands me a hefty tome with a raised hand on the cover. On the palm of this hand is a cross.

As I open it, the title reveals itself: _Spirit_ _Healer_. The introduction yields the contents of the book. _Kiss it and make it better. For mages who want to develop their nurturing side_. Flipping through its pages, I see methods of summoning the energies of benevolent Fade spirits to heal more than one person at a time and so on. Even a spell that might bring someone back from the brink of death. This is just like the stuff Wynne can do. Finally I'm going to be more than marginally useful! I squeal and plant a loud kiss on Leliana's cheek. " _More healing spells_! Thank you so much! Oh, everyone is going to benefit from this."

"I am so sorry I only thought of it just now." She smiles. "After that incident with Marjolaine, I wandered through Denerim and ended up in a delightful little shop; 'Wonders of Thedas', it was called. They had the most remarkable things, like an adulterer's head preserved in honey."

"Really?" Yuck. My face twists into a disgusted expression on its own. "That sounds a bit gruesome."

Leliana utters her melodious laugh. "It was, a little. But then I saw this manual and thought of how you always take care of everyone. So here it is, my gift to you, for helping me with my problem and being a nice person in general."

I fling my arms around her (taking care not to squish my baby). "That's so sweet of you, Leliana. I really appreciate it."

"It was my pleasure, dearest one." She softly presses her lips to my cheek. "I shall leave you alone with little Collin." And so she hands him over to me and walks out the door.

"Time for you to wear your new clothes, pumpkin!" I notice an unpleasant smell. "But first, you need some cleaning up." This won't be my first time cleaning my baby; last night, while I couldn't sleep (not it would've been that great a sleep anyway, with the child demanding to be fed at regular intervals), he went number two on me. I can wipe my own ass, so why wouldn't I be able to wipe another's? You just have to be more careful with such a delicate creature. Easy as pie, and you get used to the smell. It's my own child, after all. "There you go, all clean."

The child studies me intently as I lay him on the bed to put his new clothes on. He probably wants to commit my face to memory. And that of everyone else he encounters. It's a good thing Wynne let me hang with my bum off the bed while giving birth, or this mattress would have been thoroughly ruined.

"Well, aren't you adorable?" Jowan suddenly gushes beside me. He'd left the room to get ready for his no doubt dramatic return to the tower. With a delighted smile he picks up the baby to cradle him to his chest. "You look like a happy little sunflower, yes you do!"

I tug at his fancy shirt. "Where'd you get this?" It's a beautiful-looking thing, silky and soft. The colour looks great with his eyes. Periwinkle blue. Smells like cinnamon. "Did Zevran give you this?"

"Yes. He said I had to look nice for my last day." He twirls around. "How do I look?"

"You look wonderful, darling." I peck him on the cheek. "Normally I would be tearing it right off you, but you know..."

He laughs heartily, rocking Collin in his arms. "I know. I wouldn't be too eager either, if I'd just pushed a smaller person out of myself." With hungry eyes he looks me up and down. Apparently the sight of me in nothing but a patched-up men's shirt and knickers appeals to him. "Why don't you get dressed, before I ruin your stitches?"

"Oh, you naughty boy!" I playfully swat at his arm. "Will you two be all right all by yourselves then?"

"Don't worry mommy," Jowan squeaks in an even higher-pitched voice. "Uncle Jowan will take good care of me."

I raise my eyebrows. "Say what? Ew Jowse, that just sounds plain creepy. But I'll trust you." After giving my little pumpkin a kiss, I exit the room with my new robes. It's such a relief I'm no longer lugging around a great big round belly anymore.

~*|'-'|*~

Whew, it's been a while since I've been able to give my hair a good wash. Leliana lent me her soap, which has the most wonderful smell. Must be something she took with her from Orlais. Sometimes frilly, frivolous things are so much fun.

Fresh as a daisy and squeaky clean, I put on a pair of clean knickers and one of my new brassieres. I'm getting used to how constrictive these things are. The bodice was without boning, much more supple and comfortable. This is just as well though. My knockers are so heavy now, I really need some extra support. Who knew a small supply of milk could weigh so much? Suddenly I feel a lot more sympathy for cows.

Well I'll be... I can't get these robes to close. Shit! My gut is still too big. Ugh, good thing I happened to take my old robes as well. They're plenty wide. I was so looking forward to wearing these gorgeous new things. Shame. They will have to wait until I've lost a bit of flab. Maybe I will leave my hair down today. I hate to admit it, but Daniela was right; always that same old bun is boring. Variety is the spice of life, and all that.


	116. Return to the Circle of Magi - Goodbye Jowan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all.

### Return to the Circle of Magi - Goodbye Jowan

Everyone has gathered in the room where we spent the night, and apparently they all have said goodbye already. Should I be worried that Morrigan is holding my baby? Probably not. I doubt she would hurt him, and she seems to like having him in her arms. Maker's breath, but I hate occasions like these. Death, loss, sorrow. Wonder how I will feel after he's gone. Not too happy I imagine. Gutted, probably. How he can look so cheerful is beyond me. Well, probably because Leliana just gave him a hug. Don't think I haven't seen his interested look whenever his gaze is directed at her. But who could blame him? Certainly not I. Maker knows I have somewhat of a roving eye myself.

Jowan is talking to Alistair in an animated fashion: "So then I said to him: that's what _she_ said! And then he goes..."

"Jowse?" I lay my hand on his arm.

He quickly turns. "Ah, there you are. Come to say goodbye as well?"

"Sort of." I shrug. "I will be going with you anyway, so here is the short version." Tears are stinging my eyes, but they disappear when I blink a few times. "Goodbye, dearest friend." I wrap my arms around him.

"Friend?" he murmurs inquisitively.

I let him go and try to smile. "No matter what we have now, first and foremost, you are still my oldest and dearest friend." Grasping his hands, I let out a sigh. "I will miss you terribly."

"You'll be fine. Really, you don't need me." He kisses my forehead. "You are a strong woman, and your friends adore you. They will look after you when I'm gone."

"Yes." Alistair lays his hand on my shoulder. "I'm here for you." Wow, he sounds sad. I'm such a selfish bitch, you know? All this time I've been whining to myself about how much I will miss Jowan, but I forget that there are others who also care about him. Like Alistair. Those two have become such good friends, and now the poor Warden is about to lose the one he might talk to boy -things about, whatever those may be.

"Thanks, Alistair." I raise my shoulder to briefly rub my cheek against his hand. "I appreciate that. Are you going to come too?"

He looks at the mage. "If I may."

"Sure." Jowan nods, suddenly more serious. "The more, the merrier. Now, let's go. I've delayed this long enough."

~*|'-'|*~

All the way across the lake Jowan kept quiet. He looked pale and was constantly chewing his lip. Now that his sentence is so close, he's no doubt getting a little anxious. Even Nugget was squeaking all the time. Beside Alistair, only Stubbs insisted to come with us. Not even Wynne wanted to join, because she fears Irving will plead with her to come back and stuff like that. I left Collin in the old lady's care; before we took off I fed him, and I literally had to lock myself inside the room the men had spent the night in with Sten posted before the door to prevent Oghren and/or Zevran from forcing their way in. Why are they so interested in breastfeeding anyway? Nutters.

So as it turns out, this boat can only hold _two_ other people. Stupid Carroll; we could've all been sleeping with the fishes on the bottom of Lake Calenhad. I thought it was a bit cramped with the four of us stuck in there. Kester is having a busy day. First Alistair and Stubbs were ferried over, then Jowan and myself. Poor thing had an iron grip on my hand the entire time. Well then, the templars have opened the doors. Time to go in and find the first enchanter and the Knight-Commander.

Oh, lucky us. They're in the entry hall, apparently idly standing next to each other. You'd think they have other stuff to do, what with the tower in shambles and everything. Maybe they knew we were coming, but they both look so bored I highly doubt that. "Greetings, gentlemen." I raise my hand.

"Finally decided to arrive, have you?" Greagoir answers sourly.

I raise an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"A few months ago we received word from Redcliffe that a Grey Warden would deliver an apostate to the Circle," Irving chuckles.

"Better late than never." Alistair bows gracefully, which is no mean feat in that beautiful armour Sophia left us. "My sincerest apologies, but we ran into several delays on the way."

Oh. How very nice of him. All those "delays" were my fault. I mimic his gesture. "Yes, what he said."

"That is quite all right, Wardens." The Knight-Commander still doesn't sound very happy. Not like he ever has sounded happy anyway. "We will take Jowan from you now."

My friend and beloved turns to me, wrapping me in his embrace for the very last time. "Goodbye, Tori. It's been good travelling with you." His warmth seeps into me as he captures my lips in a kiss that seems everlasting. The very last one. When he finally releases me, I see resignation in his eyes.

"I'll never forget you." I sigh. "Thanks for everything." There are all these things I would like to say, but I just can't seem to find the right words. "I love you," I whisper softly into his ear. That's nothing those two old men should be hearing.

He smiles and reaches out to caress my face. "And I you. Do everyone a favour though." A lock of my hair is twirled around his finger. "Wear it like this more often."

"When the archdemon is dead." I can't help but return his smile. "Then I'll have plenty of cause to leave my hair down." And so our goodbyes are done.

"Thanks for everything, Alistair." The two share one of those manly hugs where they awkwardly pat each other on the back and make sure they don't get too close. "You've been a true friend."

The Warden nods morosely. "You too. I really liked having a buddy." He lets out a long breath. "Well, goodbye then."

"Best of luck to you. Give that archdemon what for!" Jowan grins. "Goodbye."

Whimpering pitifully, Stubbs bumps his head against the man's leg. The mage crouches so they are at an even level. "Stubbs..." He vigorously rubs the dog's head. "Take good care of your lady for me, okay?" The hound cocks his head with a quizzical whine. "I have no idea what you're saying." Jowan hugs the mabari's massive frame. "You're a good dog. Take good care of yourself."

Stubbs barks in reassurance and licks his face, which makes the mage wipe away the drool, grimacing.

"I'd like to ask you something, Knight-Commander, if I may." Poor Nugget is writhing against me, squeaking anxiously. "Because Cullen was the only templar here left alive, I thought I should bring him a gift. Is that all right with you?"

The old templar gives me a blank stare. "Why are you asking me this? Surely you don't need my consent."

"Not if it were just a box of chocolates, no." I show him the nug. "But this is a living creature, a pet."

Gingerly Greagoir takes the animal in his gauntleted hands. "It looks harmless enough." He briefly inspects Nugget as he twitches in his hands. "Very well, you have my permission. But tell the boy he must look after this creature himself."

"I will, thank you." I hand Jowan the nug. "You'll want to cuddle with him once more, no?"

"Definitely." He cradles the creature to his chest. "Goodbye, Nugget. You're the sweetest little naked rabbit-pig in all of Thedas." After a wistful sigh, he returns Nugget to me. "Guess this is it then." He turns toward the two grey-haired men. "What is going to happen to me?"

It is Irving who speaks. "We will proceed with the Rite of Tranquillity. Although your crimes are severe enough to warrant a death sentence, there is only a handful of mages and templars left and we need all possible help to rebuild the Circle."

"So..." Jowan blinks in surprise. "I'm not going to be killed? You will leave me alive?"

"Yes." Greagoir nods, obviously not very pleased with this punishment. "After a great deal of debate, Irving has convinced me that the Rite is the best course of action."

My friend turns to me. "So this means we could still see each other! Promise me you'll come visit."

"I don't see the point." Tranquil scare the crap out of me. "You won't even care, so why would I... Oh, fine. I'll come visit you if I can." Can't resist the puppy eyes. This is the last time I will see them from him too; after the Rite, there will be nothing left but an empty shell. No doubt seeing him like that will really hurt, but I owe him this one last favour. For all the comfort he's brought me. For all the love he's given me. For having been my friend for most of my life. For just, you know, being him.

"Thank you." Jowan looks at all three of us in turn. "Goodbye, my friends. And good luck." With that, Irving and Greagoir escort him away.


	117. Return to the Circle of Magi - A Nug for Cullen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth and Cullen finally meet again. How awkward could it possibly get?

### Return to the Circle of Magi - A Nug for Cullen

I hug Nugget to my chest. "I should give this to Cullen and then get out of here. Are you going to come with me?"

"Yeah." Alistair sighs wistfully. "He was acting so strange the last time, I should make sure he won't try to hurt you."

"I'm sorry." I link my arm with his. "You're really attached to Jowan, aren't you?"

He shrugs. "It hardly matters now. Let's just go."

Prepared to climb several stairs, I'm actually quite pleased to find Cullen in what still remains of the library. He is engrossed in reading a book, brows knitted together as he is leaning against a book case. Judging from his blushing, the book must be exciting. It doesn't look like he gets a lot of sleep; he looks pale and there are dark shadows under his eyes. And his beard isn't as carefully groomed as I remember it to be. His hair could use a comb. In short: he looks like shit.

"Hello."

He looks up upon hearing my greeting. "Oh, hello." And then his face turns dark. "Great, you brought your insane friend."

"Ah, get bent," Alistair mutters, showing him a rather rude gesture. I'm really rubbing off on him. "Do you mind if I just go back? It seems safe enough." His demeanour is utterly miserable, poor thing.

"No, of course not." I give his hand a little squeeze. "This probably won't take long, so I'll see you in a bit."

Stubbs, in the meantime, has padded over to Cullen and is sniffing him with great interest. He finally sits down and barks, happily wagging his tail. "Nice dog," the templar says dryly, patting him on the head. But then Stubbs does that thing where he sits on his bum, raising his front legs in the air, and the ghost of a smile breaks through. "Aww..." He grabs one of the hound's massive paws, simultaneously rubbing him behind the ears.

"Stubbs, go with Alistair." The mabari barks in response and walks over to the Warden. "Be cute, try to distract him, okay?" Another bark and the two go on their way, my hound guiding Alistair outside by the hand. Hm, that poor boy looks so sad, with his shoulders slumped like that. Time to return the favour he did me what seems like ages ago: I will take care of him when I get back. Not that I don't feel vaguely sad myself. Guess we'll have to comfort each other. "So, what were you reading?"

Cullen abruptly snaps his book shut. "Nothing!" He hides it behind his back, as if I really care to know about his reading matter. "What brings you here?"

"Jowan." I sigh. "Just brought him back."

"First you help him escape and now you turn him in?" the templar asks incredulously. "Where is the logic in that?"

I sigh again. "No logic. I wouldn't have done it, but he insisted. And now he will be made tranquil."

"Well..." Cullen shoots me an unreadable look.

"Well _what_? Are you going to go off on some rant about how he should actually be killed for what he did?" I place a hand on my hip and glare at him. "I'll have you know he's been a great help in..."

He raises his hand to shut me up. "No, not at all. I wanted to say he's lucky he will not be put to death. The Knight-Commander was clamouring for his head, and yours, after his departure. Now at least you can still see him. He is your best friend, right?"

"Right. For a long time he was the only friend I had." I chew my lip. Too bad Jowan won't actually give a crap when I visit him.

"And now you have the idiot who kidnapped me. Aren't you lucky?" He scoffs, obviously still upset about that whole event. It's been months, for crying out loud.

"Get over it; he meant well. Anyway, I have something for you." I show him Nugget, and the templar's eyes grow wide. Probably never seen one of them. I can't believe I actually have a child with this guy and can't tell him about it. Well, I certainly can't risk him going berserk and killing me.

"Uhm, thank you?" He accepts the nug, giving it a weird look. "What _is_ this?" His eyes scan the twitching creature in his hands. "Where did you find a bald rabbit?"

"That's not a rabbit. It's a nug, a little souvenir from Orzammar." I carefully take him back. "Take your gauntlets off and pet him properly. He's really soft, you'll see."

Grumbling under his breath, he pulls off one glove. "Oh, you are right." He slowly pets Nugget's back, a delighted look on his face. "It feels a bit like velvet."

"So it does. His name is Nugget, and you can feed him practically anything. Enjoy." I turn to walk away, but a hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Thank you, for the nug. Why don't you stay a little longer?" He smiles wanly at me. "Tell me of your travels; I could really use some distraction from... you know."

I run a hand through my hair. Fine, just a few minutes. "Sure. Are you having nightmares?"

"Every night." He nods gravely. "I don't sleep much anymore."

"That explains why you look so shitty." I dodge a slap half-heartedly directed at my face. "Hey, hey, real men don't hit girls." I brush a few strands of hair that have fallen into my eyes behind my ear. "Do you want to hear my stories, or not?"

Cullen gasps loudly. "Maker's breath, what happened to your face?"

"My face?" I feel around, but notice nothing out of the ordinary. "What? Do I have food stuck to it or something?"

"This scar, how did you get it?" Apparently without thinking, he reaches out and traces the line on my cheek. It's as if his skin is charged with electricity, sparks flying into me just like old times. Huh, I'd almost forgotten about that scar and the attempt on my life. "It looks terrible."

I wave my hand dismissively. "It was just a botched assassination attempt, nothing to get your knickers in a twist over." I clear my throat. "Okay, so there we are in the Frostback Mountains, and these idiots come running up to us with their weapons drawn..."


	118. Return to the Circle of Magi - Identical Voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This guy sounds *just* like Cullen. And then he doesn't in the sequel.

### Return to the Circle of Magi - Identical Voices

Halfway through the tale of how we saved the day in Orzammar, Cullen smacked his forehead and explained how he was tasked with feeding the prisoner. This prisoner has apparently been in solitary confinement for a long time, even during the troubles. That's the guy who keeps escaping, if I recall correctly. I've never met him, but I've heard of his many attempts at becoming a full-time apostate. It's kind of a surprise he's not been executed yet.

And then the templar sheepishly admitted he still had to make the food to feed said prisoner with. He kept staring at me with this pleading look in his eyes, and so I buckled. We prepared the meal together, which was actually quite fun. The best part was that we weren't awkward around each other. At all. He listened attentively while I finished my story during the cooking (Nugget sat on the table like a good boy and munched on the carrot Cullen had given him) and kept pretty quiet himself, but he didn't seem uncomfortable around me. And I didn't feel that way either. Perhaps this means we can be friends at some point. That would be nice.

I managed to talk the templar into giving me a huge crate that used to hold potatoes; see, I've read terrible stories of mothers accidentally killing their children. They would sleep with the little ones in the same bed and roll onto them in their sleep, suffocating them with their weight. Just horrid. I'm going to line this crate with fabric and soft pillows and blankets and stuff, and that way Collin will have his own bed of sorts. Sometimes I have such good ideas.

Cullen returned to the library, to the book he didn't want me to see. How silly. I don't care if he secretly enjoys reading about the noble art of crocheting, or whatever. Though it's probably not about crocheting if he was blushing from reading it. Hm. So now I'm to deliver this food to the prisoner. I didn't even know we had a cell in the basement. A man with a short blond ponytail, dressed in fancy robes, is sitting on the floor of the cell, back turned to me. "Hello, uh, prisoner? I have your food here."

"It's about time." That voice... The prisoner rises and turns in my direction. Well now, he is rather good-looking. I like that earring he's wearing. I'd do him. What the... Where did that come from? That's not very respectful, Astoreth. Ah well, that's me for you. "Huh." He quirks an eyebrow at my presence. "Where is that sullen templar?"

"Cullen wasn't in the mood to feed you." I open the hatch in the door and slide the tray with his dinner through it. "Sorry about the delay. I was keeping him busy." That sounded rather dubious, but I make no apologies. That only makes it worse.

With a chuckle the mage promptly dives into the food. "I'm sure you were." He eyes me curiously between shoving handfuls into his mouth. "You look vaguely familiar."

"Could be. I lived here for eighteen years or so." I need to go. Collin needs me. "I'm Astoreth, nice to meet you and all, but I really have to go."

"Oh, of _course_. The antisocial mystery orphan." He continues eating, an amused look on his face.

I had no idea other mages thought of me like this. Actually, I can think of no reason why this guy should know of my existence. Save one: boys are as gossipy as girls. "Yes, that's me, very antisocial. Just for good measure, I'd flip you off too, but I haven't the time. Goodbye now."

"Going already?" The prisoner clicks his tongue. "That's a shame. I could use some company, especially now that Mister Wiggums is dead. My name is Anders."

"Mister Wiggums is dead?" That poor cat probably got killed during the uprising. "Well anyway Anders, I understand you've been alone here for a long time, but I have important things to do." It's like I can feel my baby calling me. And my chest is so _heavy_. "I really, really have to go."

He raises an amused eyebrow. "To the privy?"

"No, I don't have to go like that." I can't help but giggle.

"Then why are you doing the pee-pee dance?" he questions quasi-sternly.

"I'm not-" Actually, I'm hopping from one foot to the other. Oh dear, I _am_ doing the pee-pee dance. I cease my movements and clear my throat. "Are you done eating?"

Anders nods. "Yes. It was a lot better than the usual grub." Clasping his hand to his mouth, he lets out a belch. "Pardon me." His voice may sound the same as Cullen's, but his manner is completely different. He looks a lot different too. A bit similar to Alistair, actually. Just slightly less handsome.

"I helped make it." Or rather, Cullen helped _me_. As a woman, I naturally had to do most of the cooking. I take back the tray and close the hatch again. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Take care."

A hand closes around my wrist. My eyes follow the course of the arm that is attached to it, along the well-defined muscle of his bicep. Not your average skinny mage. Yum. I find Anders flashing me a charming smile. "You should come by more often."

"Uh..." For some reason, my knees feel weak. What is wrong with me? I should be feeling sad about Jowan being made tranquil, not be charmed by a good-looking mage in a prison cell. "I'm a bit busy, what with this Blight and everything. It was good meeting you."

The mage releases me with a wistful sigh. "Don't mind me then. Goodbye." He waves at me as I walk away. Hm, must be very lonely in there. They don't call it solitary confinement for nothing, after all. It's so funny his voice is like Cullen's. It's not even similar, it's _exactly the same_. What are the odds?


	119. Return to the Circle of Magi - The Templar's Secret Vice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is reading *what*?

### Return to the Circle of Magi - The Templar's Secret Vice

Cullen has his nose in that book again. This time he's sitting at the table, absently petting Nugget while he reads. Apparently it's so interesting he hasn't even heard me yet. I sneak up behind him and look over his shoulder.

_A delightful shiver coursed through Talia's shapely body as her chevalier blew his hot breath across the sensitive skin of her swan-like neck, one of his strong hands caressing her ample bosom, the other tangled into her raven tresses. Naturally the lady was quick to respond. Wrapping her long legs around his waist, her fragile hands wandered the expanse of Garren's muscular back. Her fingers trembled from exploring the lines of his powerful physique, from feeling his bare skin against her own._

Why can I not get enough of this man? _Talia mused. Garren was arrogant and not particularly kind to her. Her father despised him, and yet she tied her sheets to the post of her luxurious bed every night to climb from her window and run to the handsome chevalier's mansion as quickly as her dainty feet could carry her. All her thoughts were drowned from her mind when Garren brushed her silk skirts aside and entered her, his rigid manhood throbbing in her delicate heat. Talia uttered a breathless moan, lightly dragging her nails down her lover's back. He responded in kind with a low groan and gentle nibble to her lily-white shoulder._

Wow. Just, _wow_. Since when do we have stuff like this in our library? And since when do good little templars read smutty novels? I bring my lips close to the templar's ear and whisper: "Boo."

Startled, Cullen shrieks and clutches his heart. "Maker's breath, woman, are you trying to kill me?" His cheeks are red and his breathing shallow and ragged. I'm not sure if it's because I scared him a little. He shoots me a mean glare. "Never sneak up on me like that again."

"I'm sorry, you were so absorbed in your book, I had to see what it was about." I giggle. "Who'd have thought you were into this kind of smut?"

"I'm not!" he says defensively, snapping the book shut. Apparently this fine piece of literature is called _The Rose of Orlais_. It's obviously not about gardening. "It... passes the time, and..." He sighs and rolls his eyes. "Fine, I _love_ it. But don't tell anyone."

I pat him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, your dirty little secret is safe with me." The nug quivers under my hand as I stroke his back. "I have to go. By the way, the Knight-Commander wanted me to tell you that you have to look after Nugget all by yourself."

"I will." With a slight smile, he picks the animal up and cuddles him. "Thanks again. I really like him."

That's what I like to see. The former love of my life, not looking miserable. Surely a great guy like him deserves to be nothing less than happy. Does he still think of me, I wonder. Probably not the same way he used to. I'm just an old memory from a happier past. But let the past remain the past, so I can focus on the present. "You're welcome. I hope you'll be able to sleep again at some point."

"So do I." Cullen slides back his chair, causing a loud scraping noise, and rises. He loosely wraps his arms around me, patting me on the back. So this is what those awkward man-hugs feel like. Andraste's mercy, he still smells the same. And sleep deprived or no, he is still as handsome as ever. Still the most handsome man I've ever seen. Good thing he's wearing his heavy armour, or I'd be swooning with excitement from feeling his body against mine. His beautiful, marvellous body. Oh, Maker's breath. All too soon the arms around me are gone. "Will you be coming back?"

I shrug and take a step back. My face feels hot. "Maybe, if I have business here. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." He gives my shoulder a brief squeeze. Time to go. No doubt Collin is hungry by now.


	120. Return to the Circle of Magi - Boobs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair sees something he apparently has never seen before.

### Return to the Circle of Magi - Boobs

"Astoreth, help!" Alistair cries as soon as I walk into my room, dragging the crate behind me. "He's been plucking at my shirt for over an hour now, and crying, and _I don't know what to do_!" The Warden seems to be close to tears himself, desperately rocking my wailing child in his arms. He is sitting where Jowan was the night before, with Stubbs curled up at his feet. The dog is a very deep sleeper, it would seem. Poor Jowan. Where before his eyes were the windows to his soul, they are now the windows to a deserted house. The Rite of Tranquillity. Whoever came up with that sick idea?

I sit myself next to the others and take my baby in my arms. Collin immediately lays his little hands on my chest, still crying. "Just a moment, my poor pumpkin." I undo the button at my throat, open my robes to reveal my breast. "There you are." The little one's lips are around my nipple in an instant and his usual silence has returned, the tears already drying on his little face. Whew, that's a relief. I could swear the little one is giving me a look of accusation from his half-closed eyes. "Your mommy is very sorry she left you alone for so long, little darling." Now I'm speaking in third person, even. But at least the baby looks to be appeased. From the corner of my eye I can see that Alistair has his hand covering his eyes, dark red spots on his cheeks. "It's fine Alistair, you can look."

"But, but your... you know, are uncovered!" he squeaks, only pressing his hand closer against his eyes.

Heh, he's so adorable. "My what? Breasts? Boobies? Hooters? Knockers? Tits? Ju..."

"Okay, okay!" With a sigh he lowers his hand, but keeps his eyes averted. "Breasts, then. Your breasts are uncovered."

"Don't fret, it's only one." Then it hits me. "You've never actually seen bare breasts before, have you?"

Immediately Alistair turns his head away, mumbling something that sounds a lot like "no", followed by several excuses. His cheeks have turned even redder.

I elbow him in the side. "No need to be embarrassed about that. How many naked bosoms does one get to see in a Chantry, after all?" It's not like it's an Antivan whorehouse. Which reminds me, Zevran grew up in a whorehouse. Interesting. Don't forget to ask about that.

"None. Zip. Zero." The Warden turns his face in my direction. Briefly his eyes stray below my face and lo and behold, the poor thing turns almost literally as red as a poppy.

"Well, then I'm sorry to have ruined the experience for you by having a baby attached to it." I run my fingers through Collin's fluffy hair. It's so soft. Everything about him is soft.

My poor colleague swallows. "It's uh, it's fine. They are not for my eyes anyway." For a moment he fidgets about nervously. "Look, I don't really feel like talking about anything, but do you mind if I stay here with you tonight?"

"No problem, be my guest." With my child done feeding, I lay him over my shoulder again for a loud burp. "That's my good boy." He's asleep even before I've had the time to let him rest on my lap. Isn't he just precious?

How very bold. With wide eyes, my fellow Warden is now openly looking at my bare breast, no longer partially covered by the baby. "I think... I think I like breasts. That one looks nice anyhow," he says with a quivering voice.

"Thank you. Now for further reference..." I bare the other one as well. I must've gone mad, showing myself to Alistair like this. Still, I feel sorry for him, twenty-something years old and never seen boobies. That's just plain sad. What are friends for, if not to help one another gain experience? Or maybe I'm just a filthy exhibitionist; that is also a possibility.

He gulps audibly. "They're both equally nice." His voice comes out in a high-pitched squeak. "I mean..." He clears his throat and purposely deepens his voice. "They're both equally nice."

"Thanks." I put my chest back where it belongs: safely hidden behind fabric. "Oh, one thing though: I'm probably going to have to sleep naked."

"N-n-naked? As in without clothing?" he stammers. "That... I... Why?"

I shrug. "My nightshirt is filthy. I need to wash it, or find another."

He promptly pulls his shirt over his head and hands it to me. "You can wear mine."

"Aw, thank you." I hand him soundly sleeping Collin. "Watch him while I get changed, will you?"

With a nod he takes the baby in his arms and pretends to intently look at him. I say pretend, because I can see his eyes sometimes flitting in my direction. With my back turned to him, I open my robes and slide them down my hips. When the folds of fabric are pooled around my ankles, I can feel his gaze burning into my skin. His eyes trace every mark on my body, the scars on my back, the curve of my behind. A searing heat is left in their wake. Mind you, I have no idea of knowing if he actually is watching me. Perhaps I'm just being fanciful, flattering myself into thinking I'm worth looking at. Then again, I have been told I am beautiful and Alistair has never really seen a naked woman. If I were him, I'd be feasting my eyes out of their sockets right now. Even with me being an imperfect specimen.

Poor Jowan. He so often called me perfect, his princess. I love him dearly, and I always will, but why am I not feeling sad about him becoming an empty shell of what he used to be? Am I becoming too accustomed to losing people, to seeing death? Such a terrible thing to become used to. Maybe it needs some time to sink in. Maybe I'm just a cold, heartless bitch now. We'll see. I randomly toss my brassiere on the floor and slip Alistair's shirt on over my head. How delightfully fragrant. I can't compare this smell to anything, but I like it. Huh. This shirt is big enough for two of me. "Say, why are there no laces on this thing?"

"I wear armour, it's not like anyone will ever see what I have on underneath. Those laces were itchy, so I took them out," he replies.

"Very well." I turn around. The shirt reaches all the way down to my knees and the arms are way too long. I feel silly. "It looks better on you, I'm afraid."

For a moment, the Warden's eyes widen as he catches a glimpse of my bust, exposed quite far because of the lack of laces. "No, it doesn't." He reflexively licks his lips. "Ah, see this is why I'll miss Jowan. Who am I going to tell about how good you look in my shirt?"

"I'm quite sure Zevran would be interested." I am handed my little boy again; cradling Collin to my chest, I steal a sheet from the bed, as well as the pillow Alistair isn't using. The crate goes on the floor, next to my side of the bed. The folded sheet works great as a lining, the pillow the right size to fit in there. Still sleeping soundly, my little pumpkin doesn't seem to mind his makeshift bed. From my pack I take a spare blanket and lay it over him. There.

I jump into bed and cuddle up to my friend. I rather like how he's shirtless. "You have a lot of hair." My fingers run through the narrow line down his stomach. Those abs of his are gorgeous. I wish mine weren't lost in a mass of fat and skin. Not that I need to have a sexy washboard like this, but I would like to return my belly to the way it was pre-Collin.

"Well, if it bothers you, you'd better give me back my shirt," he returns defensively.

"Oh, no." I smile up at him. "I used to have this stuffed animal, a bear. He was my favourite toy; I'd hugged him so often, most of his fur had worn off. You rather remind me of him." I reach out to briefly stroke his cheek. "Except that you are a lot better-looking, of course."

Looking up, I see his face has coloured red again. "Oh, uhm, thank you. You're not going to hug me so often, _my_ fur will wear off, are you?" He chuckles awkwardly.

"I might." I wrap my arms around his waist to get even closer to him. "Especially if you intend to spend the night with me more often."

"Oh, about that. I should probably take off my pants so I can actually get comfortable."

I untangle my body from around his. "That is probably a good idea, yes."

Alistair steps away from the bed, back turned towards me. My, as if the front wasn't spectacular enough, his backside is just as appealing. Well-defined muscles in his back, a scar here and there. A beautiful man. Oh, and there go the pants. I feel the strong urge to reach out and give his butt a good pinch. It has this inviting look to it. Ah, well. I don't understand myself sometimes. I lost my dearest friend today, and yet, I'm here contemplating how nice Alistair's bum looks. I should be sad but I'm not. You're a terrible person, Astoreth. Just terrible. Shame on you. Suddenly he turns, so abruptly I have no time to avert my eyes and pretend I wasn't staring at him at all. "Were you looking at me all this time?" His voice carries a slight tone of accusation.

"Uhm..." I smile sheepishly. "You never said I couldn't."

He shrugs. "That'll teach me." Turning up the covers, he slides underneath them. "I'm a bit tired. Aren't you tired?" With a loud yawn, he stretches his arms above his head.

"Yes, I am." Yesterday I couldn't sleep, so of course I'm a bit sleepy now. I crawl under the covers as well and get very, very close to my fellow Warden. "Goodnight." I press a soft kiss to his chest.

"Sweet dreams, little Warden," he mumbles. Well, if I'm pressed against a man this hot, how could my dreams _not_ be sweet? Oh yeah, because Jowan is to be made Tranquil. Good reason.


	121. Return to the Circle of Magi - Puppy Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet dreams are made of this. Who has a mind to disagree?

### Return to the Circle of Magi - Puppy Love

"…the opposing force of Creation; for this reason it is often called the School of Negation," a bored voice drones.

I raise my head off my arms and look around. Well, this is familiar. The rickety desk, old senior enchanter Sweeney lecturing. _He_ doesn't even sound convinced. A piece of paper is pushed into my hand and I look off to the side. My heart begins pounding in my chest.

There's Jowan, smiling at me with sparkling eyes. He looks younger and carefree. His hand reaches out to wrap around mine. I unfold the paper and find that it's covered in scribbled hearts. Large hearts, small hearts. How cute. An involuntary giggle escapes me.

The uninterested drone in the background abruptly stops. "Astoreth, Jowan!" the lecturer calls in a warning manner. "To Greagoir's office!"

For just a giggle? "But I…"

"No buts!" The old man seems to be torn between feeling angry or endeared. "You two are always exchanging notes, you never pay attention. Adorable as that may be, this isn't the time for romance. This is the time for study. Out!"

Jowan is already standing next to my desk, graciously helping me out of my chair. "Come, Tori. Let's just go." He smiles at me affectionately. Apparently my dear doesn't care we are being sent to the dreaded knight-commander.

We are followed by whistling and cheering from the other pupils whilst we walk out of the room, his arm possessively wrapped around my waist. Shut up, you guys.

On the way we run into a familiar face. "Hello, lovebirds." Cullen chuckles. "What are you two doing here, in the middle of a class?" The tone of his voice suggests he knows damned well why we're here. Ah, Cullen. He looks so sexy in that armour. And even more so without it. Were it up to me, templars would be standing guard in nothing but a nice pair of pants. They're all in fine shape, I hear. Rawr. Some of them might require a paper bag over the head though. Just saying.

"As if you don't know." Jowan laughs happily. "We got kicked out and sent to Greagoir."

I sigh. "You know, it might help if you didn't send me notes." It's only a dream, but it's a good dream. I like it; it's all so cute and innocent. Puppy love.

"You'd better get going, or you will get in even more trouble," the templar warns. "Off you go."

Our knock on Greagoir's door is answered with a stern "Enter!". Here goes.

"Ah, it's you," the man says as soon as he sees us, looking up from a stack of papers on his desk. "You children are becoming regulars here." The knight-commander sighs in exasperation. "What am I to do with you?"

Jowan grins. "Well ser, perhaps you could let us off with a warning?"

"No, that simply won't do." Greagoir shakes his head. "You should learn to pursue your dalliance in your own time. Jowan, you will clean the privies today and Astoreth..."

"No!" my darling interrupts the templar. "It was all my fault. I'll do whatever you assign her with."

Greagoir raises his bushy eyebrows. "Certainly not. Scrubbing the women's washing facilities will be your task, young lady." He dismisses us with a curt hand gesture.

"I'm so sorry I got you into this," Jowan whispers pitifully after closing the door behind him. "Really." He wraps his arms around me in a tight hug. I feel safe here, loved. Warm and fuzzy.

"It's fine, Jowse. At least I don't have to clean the privies." I bet this nice smell on him will have changed when he's done with his task. "Thanks for offering to take over from me."

The boy chuckles, his breath ruffling my hair. "You're my girl, I have to look out for you." His grip on me loosens, one hand cups my chin to tilt my head upward. "I-I love you, Tori." For some reason he sounds nervous, eyes darting back and forth. This is probably the first time he's worked up the guts to say it.

I smile and caress his face. "I love you too."

Those four words are rewarded with a soft, sweet kiss; warm lips against mine, hands low on my back. My slipping my tongue into his mouth causes a surprised moan and the familiar sensation of something hard pressing against my stomach.

"I'm so happy you feel the same," Jowan sighs as our mouths detach from each other. "I was afraid to tell you." His cheeks turn a lovely shade of red upon feeling my fingers brush his hard-on. "I-I'm sorry."

"That's all right." I pat him on the shoulder. "It's only natural."

A bright smile appears on his face, a relieved expression in his pale blue eyes. "Good, glad you don't mind." He swallows and clears his throat. "Well, I uh, I better get to work. Those privies won't clean themselves. See you tomorrow." A little peck on my cheek and he quickly walks away.

Yeah, I suppose the same goes for the women's bathroom. Oh joy of joys. Even in sweet dreams I have to do unpleasant things. Just so you know, Fade: sometimes you can take your realism a bit too far. But I'll humour you; I'm curious to see what will happen next.

Cullen is still where we left him. "Miss Amell." He nods politely. "What did Greagoir say?"

"Meh, Jowan's cleaning the privies and I'm on my way to clean the women's bathroom." I roll my eyes. "All this for a note that only contained a bunch of hearts."

"Hearts?" The templar laughs. "It's good you have each other, you know. This isn't exactly a happy place." He sighs, his expression suddenly more serious. "For all the Chantry says about mages, you are an awfully well-behaved lot."

Poor thing. He looks so bored. This time I have no candy to distract him with. "Hoping for an abomination to slay?" Be careful what you wish for.

"Oh no, certainly not!" he speaks in a shocked voice, waving his hand dismissively. "I try to do my duty to the Maker first and foremost, but a little excitement wouldn't hurt." Cullen grins charmingly. How handsome he looks. Rather out of character though; I remember him as painfully shy. Well, at least he was at first. Good times.

"Well, I think that someone who is free to go outside shouldn't complain so much." I give him a little wink. "See you around, Cullen."

The templar smiles, his warm brown eyes narrowing. "Good day, miss Amell."

"Please, call me Astoreth."

"Right." His smile turns a little wider. "Good day, Astoreth." At least I brightened _someone's_ day. It's nice not being awkward around him. Just like earlier today. I would like to be friends with the lad.

Gah, would you look at this place? Aren't women supposed to be clean and neat? A bunch of slobs is what the women who live here are. I roll up my sleeves and get started on my task. Maker's mercy. My hands are numb, the rag I've been using nearly worn away, but at least the bathroom is clean now. Well, clean-ish. It will have to do. Ow, my back! Time to stumble to the sleeping quarters and lie down a bit. Why have I even done this? This dream's not so nice anymore. It's just like the old days in the tower, but slightly worse thanks to my silly boyfriend. Bah, humbug.

Everyone is already sleeping, so I undress silently and quickly. The nightgown I'd been wearing for years, a simple white shift, slides easily over my head. Not being pregnant is so convenient. I settle into bed. This is nice.

I'm busily drifting off when I feel pressure on the right side of the bed, a warm body cuddling up to me. "Tori? Are you asleep?" Jowan whispers tentatively. His hand traces the line of my side, my waist, my hip. There are no robes covering him, only a thin pair of loose pants. I feel their breezy fabric against my bare legs.

"No, not yet." I roll over. The darkness prevents me from seeing him. "What are you doing here?"

His lips briefly touch mine. "I couldn't sleep. Just the thought of you drives me crazy; I'm constantly hot, butterflies in my stomach." He grabs my hand to place it on his crotch. Mmm, oh my. So hard. Poor thing must've been stewing for a while. Earlier he was so shy, and now he's letting me feel him up. "This is what you do to me, little princess. Would you..." His voice falters and he swallows thickly. "Would you consider giving yourself to me?"

Heh, I should've known this dream wouldn't stay innocent for too long. That's just the way I am. Apparently we're both virgins. This is going to be good. "I'm all yours. Come here." I pull my sweetie onto me, his heat burning through my nightgown. Before long we're kissing feverishly, tongues intertwined. His gently stroking hands are shaking, and for some reason, I'm a little nervous too. Why? I've done this dozens of times. It feels different now though, as if this is really my first time. How it should've been. Who I should've been with. Sadly there is no way to turn back time.

"You're beautiful, Tori," my lover whispers heatedly into my ear. He moans softly as he carefully cups my breast. "I've wanted to do this for so long." His fingers knead me hesitantly, unsure what to do. How neat that I get to experience this too; by the time Jowan and I got together, he was already very experienced. And so was I. "Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want to put any pressure on you. After all, you're still so young." His voice sounds so tender it nearly makes me cry.

How old would I be? Old enough to have breasts. Old enough for Cullen to already be here. Which makes me at least fourteen. That's quite young, but when you're ready, you're ready. At this age I was already fantasizing about sex. With this guy, as it so happens. "Of course I'm sure. Just try to be careful, please?" Acting all innocent is so much fun.

"I would never hurt you," he murmurs. "You are my precious treasure and I'll treat you as such." How sweet; hearing this makes me so happy. His lips trail down my neck, his hands slowly pulling up my shift. Soon the garment is casually thrown away and his warm body pressed against mine. "Wow." His breathing becomes quicker.

"What's the matter?" I run my hands through his hair.

Jowan makes a low chuckling noise. "Well, I've come to the conclusion that I really like boobies."

It's really hard not to laugh out loud at the utter cuteness of this. "You've never felt them before?" I can't believe I'm such an uptight bitch about that. Young Astoreth is such a prude.

"No, I didn't want to push you. You know you're my first girlfriend." He showers my face with little kisses. "And hopefully my last." Poor Jowan. He has no idea how right he is about that.

I shouldn't be sad now; it's not the right time. "Well, you have the opportunity to explore to your heart's content." I place his hand on my breast.

"Ooh, it's even better without the shirt!" he whispers in delight, squeezing enthusiastically. His movements are so adorable and inexperienced, a bit clumsy even. My heart is flowing over with affection. But he doesn't have to be the only one doing a bit of exploration. I stick my hand into his trousers, down his smallclothes. There I find something very hard and very interesting. Mmm, even at his tender age he's already so well-developed. My intimate muscles spasm, yearning to have him inside of me. A sharp gasp exits his mouth as I squeeze into his erection. "Tori," he whimpers. "Can I put it in? Please?" I'd expected him to want to play more, to give the both of us a chance to get to know each other's body. " _Please_?" he repeats. "I don't think I can wait any longer. _I need you_." His voice is a frantic plea, his hands already eagerly pulling down my panties. And to be perfectly honest, I can't wait either. So I let him take that last piece of clothing off me, then help him remove his.

Fully naked Jowan is lying between my legs, his hard-on tapping against my tummy. I'm so nervous, and I don't even know why. It must be the atmosphere, the intimacy... And the thirty or so mages sleeping all around us. Dream or no, they will probably cause a fuss if they catch us. A shiver travels down my spine with his tip rubbing against my wetness. "I can't really find it," he mutters.

"Let me help." I grab him at the base and guide the first inch into me. Uh oh, this might hurt a little. He's so big, and I seem to be a lot smaller. "Please be gentle." This time I mean it.

I hear a low groan somewhere above me. "Maker's breath, Tori, you feel good." Wow, he appears to be speaking from between clenched teeth. "Don't worry, I'll be careful." True to his word, my beloved begins pushing himself into me ever so slowly. Every tiny bloody bit of him stretches me almost unbearably far, but because of the care he takes not to hurt me, I feel hardly any pain. It's not completely painless though.

"Jowan," I breathe into his ear. "You're _huge_!" It's almost too much for me. Not quite, but almost.

"I'm hurting you, aren't I?" His voice sounds sad and worried. "Would you rather we wait?"

I wrap my legs loosely around his waist. "No, that's out of the question. You're already halfway there; just keep going. I will be fine."

"If you say so, my love." Continuing on the same course, our mouths find each other to kiss passionately. As if that's not distracting enough, his fingers close around my nipple and squeeze it gently. I moan into his mouth under his tender attentions. "There, it's done," he finally utters in a breathless groan. His fine organ is buried in me to the root.

"Stay still, let me get used to you." Goodness, I'm filled to the brim. Flowing over, more like. "Tell me, how does it feel to be in me?"

His cheek is pressed against mine; I can hear his ragged breathing in my ear. "You're so... So... I..." So good he can't even think straight. Yay. "Really, really nice!" he manages to choke out eventually.

"Good. I think I'm ready." Now that I've adjusted to him, he feels amazing as usual. I pull my muscles tightly around him to hear my lover gasp in surprise. "Make love to me." My voice is a hoarse whisper. Slowly and carefully Jowan pulls out a little, then pushes himself back in. His low whimpering and fierce throbbing tell me the poor boy is having quite a difficult time holding back from climaxing. Ah, that magical first time. Awkward and clumsy, but nice. "Try making longer strokes, darling," I urge him.

"I can't!" he groans. "It's so hard not to... Oh darn, here it goes already." Mewling like a little puppy, he finishes. Damn, I wish I could see in the dark. It must've looked so precious. Soon he collapses next to me. His hand reaches for mine, and so we lie in the dark, fingers threaded together. "This is a good dream," he drawls sleepily. "It was nice seeing you the way you used to be."

My free hand roams his arm. The skin is smooth and unmarred. "And you've not dabbled in blood magic yet."

"Nope," he chuckles. "Too bad it will all be over the moment this dream ends. Tomorrow I'll be made tranquil, and you are all grown up, mother to a cute little boy." A long, sad sigh. "I wanted to use my magic while I still had it, one grand act of defiance, or something. So the reason I created this dream and summoned you here..."

"You summoned me here? Whoa!" I can't believe it. "How did you do that?"

For a moment he is silent. "I'm not quite sure. Just thought of you very long and hard before I fell asleep, I suppose. I wanted to show you..." He sighs. "I don't know what exactly I wanted to show you, I just wanted to see you one last time in a nice, familiar setting. And tell you not to worry, or to feel bad about what is going to happen to me."

"So this is really you. Not some illusion." Amazing. That... Is this possible because of the strong connection between us? "Would you believe me if I told you I'm not worried, and that I don't feel bad at all? I'm terrible, aren't I?"

Jowan softly presses his lips to my cheek. "No, you're not. You've simply becoming more practical; in your heart you know that I deserve to be an empty shell after all those stupid things I've done. At least now I will still be useful to the Circle." He chuckles wryly. "All I wanted was to return, after all."

"And now you have. Alistair misses you, by the way. He wants you to know I look really good in his shirt."

He laughs happily. "Ah, good old Alistair. You'd even look good in a burlap sack, though."

I wrap my arms around him as tightly as possible. "I love you so much."

A low chuckle tickles my ear. "And how much is that, exactly?"

"Enough to flood all of Thedas with." I have my poetic moments.

"Wow." Next to me I hear a content sigh. "That's a whole lot of love."

I chuckle. "Damn right. And it's all for you." I nestle up to him, burying my face in his neck. "I can't help but wonder when I'll break down. Losing you... You've been my friend all my life, and now you're my lover. You mean the world to me."

"You won't break down." His fingers softly caress my cheek. "You've become strong, stronger than you think. Have faith in yourself, Tori."

"If you say so, Jowse, I will." I breathe in his scent for the very last time. "Goodbye, my love."

He chuckles and presses his lips to the top of my head. "We've already said goodbye, princess. Don't forget your promise."

"As if I ever could." I'm not really looking forward to seeing him in his new state. "I keep my promises, you know that."

"Indeed I do." A long yawn escapes him. "How about you and I take one last nap together?"

"Yeah." I can't help but smile. "A nap sounds good." I close my eyes.

Goodbye, Jowan. Goodbye, my dearest friend. Goodbye, my beloved. I will never forget you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes this part of Astoreth's adventures. Tune in later for more.


	122. The Brecilian Forest - Meet the Dalish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those elves are so hard to find...

### The Brecilian Forest - Meet the Dalish

"You know, I understand that the Dalish hate humans and don't want to be found, but this is ridiculous." As I'm walking backwards to face the people I'm whining to, I kick at a loose stone. The thing hits Oghren's shin. I grin apologetically, he grumbles about how much of an annoying woman I am. "We've been looking for them for days now!" Suddenly the others are quiet and no longer walking. "What?" Alistair points behind me wordlessly and so I turn. I'm greeted by three elves, all of them with a very pointy arrow aimed at vital organs. Nothing out of the ordinary there. "Oh, hi."

"Stop right there, outsider." The speaker is a blonde woman with elaborate tattoos adorning her face, apparently the leader of these three. "The Dalish have camped in this spot. I suggest you go elsewhere, and quickly."

It's about bloody time. "We were looking for you, actually."

"I find that hard to believe." Nevertheless, the woman lowers her bow. "What business could we Dalish possibly have with a group like yours?"

"We're Grey Wardens. Well, the tall blond and I are." I point my thumb in Alistair's direction. "We'd like to speak with your leader."

The woman gives me a stern look. "Grey Wardens? How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Beats me." I shrug. "Do you meet many pretending to be Grey Wardens?"

Hesitantly she nods. "I suppose not. Perhaps I shall let our keeper decide for himself." She gestures for us to follow. "Keep your hands to yourself, and remember our arrows are still trained on you. This way."

Ah, the Brecilian Forest. It's nice and lush; I can understand they chose this place for their camp. From his position against my chest, Collin grins his toothless grin at me, happily kicking his little legs as we walk into the Dalish camp. I've taken to wearing him tied in my scarf against my body, so we can be as close as possible. We're bonding. And this way I can keep an eye on the little one. After a few days his eyes were fully opened, and recently he's begun smiling. So adorable! I run my fingers through his hair. It's a little more than before; now he has a distinct copper tuft hanging over his forehead.

"Wynne, are you all right?" I ask her. She's been very quiet for some time, and now she seems especially pensive. "Is anything the matter?"

She absently shakes her head. "Nothing, dear, just something I have been contemplating lately."

"Well, tell me if you like. Maybe it'll help?" I wonder if it has something to do with her spirit. It seems to become weaker, but I'm quite sure she won't keel over and die anytime soon. Wynne is way too tough for that.

"Let's first see what this keeper has to say." The old lady smiles warmly. "Then I will tell you all about it."

That does make sense. The keeper is a bald elf dressed in robes, a staff at his back. A mage, I suppose. He and the lady with the bow exchange a few sentences regarding our presence, peppered with elven expressions. Their language sounds absolutely beautiful. It would be quite neat if I could learn some. After introductions are made (his name is Zathrian, and apparently thinks we humans have no manners, although I bowed and politely told him my name), I can't even get a word in to state our damned business.

"The existence of the Blight is not news to me," the keeper speaks dryly. "I would have already taken the clan north by now, but sadly we don't have the ability to move. I imagine you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago. Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to our promise."

Now why doesn't that surprise me? Oh right, because this shit happens _every time_. The Blight seems to be an opportune time for all kinds of trouble to break out. The Maker is having us on again. But oh well, it's all a great big adventure, isn't it? A learning experience. I simply nod while Zathrian continues talking.

"This will require some... explanation." The man turns. "Please follow me." And so we are whisked away again. When Dalish camp somewhere, they do it well. Their camp looks more like a kind of village, with those vehicles of them scattered about. Landships? I recall having read something like that. There are even statues set up, of various figures. If there is time, I should really look around here. It's so interesting. Become a Grey Warden, see the world! Yay. Maybe I should've brought Jowan here; I'm sure he would have liked it in the Brecilian Forest. Pity. Well, he had fun in Orzammar, so that's all good. Zathrian has brought us to what might be best described as an outdoor hospital. Several Dalish are lying on stretchers and groaning feverishly. They seem to be injured.

The keeper has a worried frown on his face as he explains the situation to us. "The clan came to the Brecilian Forest a month ago. We are always wary of the dangers in the forest, but we did not expect the werewolves lying in wait for us." He seems to shudder unconsciously from the memory. "They ambushed us and did a great deal of damage, even though we managed to drive the beasts back. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak." As if to punctuate his words, one of the poor victims groans in pain.

"Can we help them in any way?" I have new healing spells and I'm not afraid to use them! Okay well, I've mastered the first one. I have a new healing spell and I'm not afraid to use it. Poor things. It looks like they are suffering greatly. Werewolves. I thought those were just another dark fairytale.

"The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony and then ultimately death or a transformation into something monstrous. The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself, and that... would be no trivial task to retrieve." Zathrian gives me an unreadable look.

I guess I'm supposed to say something. "Well, we happen to be very good at such non-trivial tasks." Finding Andraste's ashes wasn't exactly a walk in the park. Neither was escaping the Fade, or killing a broodmother. Not that I'm bragging or anything. I'm just saying.

"Within the Brecilian Forest dwells the great wolf we call Witherfang. Within him the curse originated, and through his blood it has been spread," the keeper explains. "If he is killed and his heart brought to me, perhaps I could destroy the curse, but this task has proven too dangerous for us." He pats a wounded elf on the arm, and he immediately calms down, ceasing his pained moans. "I sent some hunters into the forest a week ago, but they have not returned. I cannot risk any more of my clan."

But it's perfectly fine to risk us, I understand. It's our job, no? "Did I hear a _perhaps_ there?"

"There is no guarantee this will work as I suspect, but it is the only hope we have left." These words are followed by a barely audible, desolate sigh.

There's not much I can say besides: "We'll find this Witherfang for you." We need their help, so we need to help them with their troubles. Sure. Not even Sten is complaining. Everyone has become used to the things everyone has us do. I'm surprised that over the course of our travels no children have run up to us to have us save their kitten from a tree. It might still happen. I would actually welcome it as a pleasant change from all this madness. Yay, kittens.

"Then I must warn you that more than werewolves lurk in the Brecilian Forest." I didn't think it was possible, but the bald man's face has taken on an even graver expression. "It has a history of carnage and murder, you see. When there is so much death, the Veil becomes thin, allowing spirits to possess things living or dead." Oh woohoo, more demons. Joy. "But if you can indeed help, I wish you luck. Now I must return to caring for my people. If you have any questions, direct them at my apprentice Lanaya, or Sarel, the clan's storyteller. Creators' speed on your way." With a quick nod, Zathrian takes his leave of us.


	123. The Brecilian Forest - Wynne's Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wynne shares her greatest regret.

### The Brecilian Forest - Wynne's Regret

"You've all heard it: find this Witherfang, kill it, bring its heart to the keeper to end the curse. Now Alistair, you be a dear and go ask this Lanaya everything we need to know about the werewolves." I suspect the pretty, young-looking woman dressed in mage's robes with blonde hair bound into braided buns is her. "I'll go talk to the storyteller."

My fellow Warden does a mocking salute. "Aye, aye, captain!" With Zevran following him close behind, he goes off to speak with the keeper's apprentice. Our Crow will no doubt want to use his charms on her. Maybe he'll finally get lucky for a change. Maker knows none of the women (or men) in our group are interested in his mind-blowing tongue. Unless there are trysts going on I know nothing of, of course. Who would fall for him? Hmmm... Well, that's not my business. All others scatter around, to see the sights or in Oghren's case find booze, I suppose. There are some birds here, and they'd better be wary of Shale. She's going to stomp on whichever she can catch. Stubbs follows me, looking around curiously.

"Do you mind if I come with you?" Wynne asks me.

"I don't see why you shouldn't." I hook my arm through hers. "Tell me about this thing you've been contemplating on the way, then."

The senior enchantress smiles sadly. "Very well..." A deep sigh. "Years ago, I was assigned as mentor to an elven boy, Aneirin. He was my first apprentice. Being from an Alienage, he was very mistrustful of humans, especially of humans in authority."

"Elves live harsh lives in those Alienages, don't they?" This one time I was eavesdropping on a couple of elven apprentices, who were talking about where they'd come from. I heard some nasty things there. Abject poverty, daily abuse from humans who can just get away with it, elves randomly disappearing. The tower is a paradise compared to that.

Wynne nods. "They do. What Aneirin needed, was time. Time to get used to his new home and to come out of his shell so we could build a rapport." Another wistful sigh. "I gave him no such time, young and arrogant as I was. I expected too much from him, too quickly. All I could think of was how he was throwing away his potential and talent, just to be difficult."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really? That seems so unlike you."

"Oh, age and wisdom have mellowed me," she chuckles dryly. "I was quite different back then. A student who is closed off and unresponsive cannot be taught, so what I needed was patience. Sadly, I learned that too late to help him."

"So what became of him then?" Here it comes, no doubt. Something not very pleasant.

The old lady averts her eyes. "Aneirin ran away from the Circle one night. I had berated him over something so unimportant, I can't even remember it. He was just a child, fourteen at the time. They had his phylactery and they hunted him down..." A tremble sets into her lower lip.

"They could've just brought him back. Why didn't they?"

"They called him a maleficar..."

"Oh, that's such bullshit!" Wynne frowns at my rude outburst, and I giggle awkwardly. "Sorry, that just escaped me. But we both know how templars can be ridiculously unforgiving. Did they at least kill him quickly?"

With a white handkerchief, she wipes away a tear. "I don't know. They wouldn't tell me, no matter how much I begged them to. I failed poor Aneirin, when all I had to do was listen to him. He often talked about finding the Dalish."

"Huh, you know, maybe he did find them? The mage-hunters are quite ruthless and thorough at their job, but a little hope won't kill you. And besides," I give her hand a friendly pat. "It wasn't your fault. I'm sure that he has forgiven you, whether he is alive or not."

"You are too kind," she sniffles. "Thank you, my dear, for letting me share my greatest regret with you." Her arm winds around my shoulders to pull me closer to her.

Looking down, I see even Collin looks a little sad. Smart boy. Stubbs whines pitifully and bumps his head against Wynne's leg. "No, thank you for telling me. Now, let's find the storyteller and get this show on the road. The sooner we're done with this treaty, the better."


	124. The Brecilian Forest - What Charms?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zevran used Seduction; it's not very effective...

### The Brecilian Forest - What Charms?

Fucking storyteller. He immediately began pelting me with sarcasm. Then one of his clanswomen rebuked him for his unkind words, so he apologized in a hardly genuine way. Instead he employed a more underhanded tactic by telling the children around him of the fall of the Dales. He asked me if I knew what had happened to them; you know, I couldn't help but feel like he was trying to goad me into saying something stupid. Something that would've made a few of them grab me by the collar, throw me from their camp and plant an arrow between my eyes. I merely said that a war had come to pass between the humans and the elves, and that the latter had lost. It was fairly politically correct. The man seemed disappointed. Well, I just don't like the flavour of humble pie. Give me apple pie any day.

Of course I can understand the Dalish being so hostile, what with humans having booted their people from not one, but count them, _two_ homelands. And we're human, so I suppose that what the Tevinter Empire did kind of rubs off on us. Still, he doesn't have to be such a cad about it, so I showed him a fine example of sarcasm as well. Sort of. It's a good thing Collin is here; if he weren't, I would have just sworn like a drunken sailor and made a big ass of myself. So anyway, after his wonderful sermon of the terrible humans that cost the elves their freedom, this Sarel finally deigned to tell us of the forest. The message is clear: the Brecilian Forest is dangerous because of its past of bloodshed and death. And it's alive: the forest can change paths and stuff, trapping visitors. Another delightful task.

Even though Wynne protested, I asked the storyteller if he knew of someone named Aneirin. As luck would have it, he _did_ know someone by that name. It wasn't a common name either. Apparently, he is a healer that likes to live in the forest, surrounded by trees and animals. What are the odds that the person Wynne's been wondering about for years is a part of _this_ particular clan of Dalish?

I really do like this place. Leliana is probably busily scribbling a ballad or an ode about the Brecilian Forest or these elves as we speak. A hand is lain on my shoulder as I'm studying a statue of some kind of wolf. Stubbs barks happily. "Yes, Alistair? You spoke with her?" I turn and smile at him.

"Did we ever!" He is almost doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach. Behind him is Zevran; he is rubbing his cheek while grumbling phrases in his own tongue. Sometimes he casts a foul glance in the other man's direction.

This is probably a story I'll want to hear. "What exactly happened?"

"Well, she told us about Zathrian. That his children were killed by humans who used to live here." Despite this grim revelation, he is still heavily amused. "She also told us all about the werewolves too. Bottom line: don't let them bite you," he laughs. "Finally our smooth operator here whispered something into the girl's ear. Her eyes became _this_ big!" With his hands he indicates about the size of a dinner plate. "Then she slapped him so hard the sound echoed through the trees!" A wild fit of giggles ensues; before long, Alistair is rolling over the ground laughing. Collin obviously finds this so amusing that he begins giggling as well. That's my little cutie.

Zevran frowns. "She was immune to my charms." As he lowers his hand, I see a red handprint on the side of his face.

"Oh, you poor thing." I take a mild healing poultice from my pouch. "Come." When he steps closer to me, I apply a thin layer of salve to the slight injury. The redness immediately draws away, leaving behind his usual sun-kissed hue. I bet his pride hurts more than his face, but I can't mend that. "Not too much luck with the ladies lately, huh?"

"Sadly, no." He sighs dejectedly, taking my hand in his. "You are too kind, sweet Warden." A soft kiss is pressed to the back of my hand. Charmer. My baby sees an opening and gleefully tugs at one of the assassin's braids, pulling the elaborate construction of his hair loose. That's what you get for hitting on his mother, I suppose.

Clicking his tongue, Zev releases my hand. "Naughty little boy." He tucks the braids behind his ears and smiles. "You will become a fine young man yet," he says adoringly, patting the baby on the head.

"Good move, Collin." Alistair sits and grins up at us. "Who knows what might've happened if your mom had succumbed to his charms?" His grin turns even wider. "Although those charms seem to be flagging a little." This remark earns him another dirty look.

"Charms? What charms?" I laugh at the assassin’s wounded expression. "Just kidding."

The Crow's hand lightly brushes my backside. "You can be _so_ mean sometimes." Dear Maker, will he ever stop? Probably not. It's not that I don't find him attractive, far from it; I just don't think it's a good idea. Even if it might be highly exciting. "Can I really not change your mind?"

Luckily I won't have to break his little heart with a negative answer as a troubled Leliana appears beside me. "How sad." With a wistful sigh she shakes her head. "I met a hunter whose wife was killed by the werewolves, or so the keeper claims. He actually fears she has become one herself, because Zathrian would not let him see her body. So terrible!"

"I can't begin to imagine how the poor man must feel. We'll keep an eye out when we're in the woods, maybe we'll run into his wife." Who knows if she'll still be able to communicate, if it is as he fears? That truly sounds like an ordeal. My own situation is nothing compared to that, because I know that both Cullen and Jowan are safe and sound, even if the latter is now a Tranquil. Still I'm not sad. Not at all. I'm worried that I'm losing my heart.

Casually Morrigan saunters up to us, the look on her face pleased as punch. Like the cat that got the cream. "Are we almost ready to go now?" she queries coolly.

"You've done something, haven't you?" I ruffle Collin's hair, coaxing all kinds of happy noises from him, and give Morrigan a stern look. "Do tell."

"Oh, 'tis nothing terrible, I assure you." She smirks and raises her arms above her head to stretch her body; her chest is in grave danger of being exposed, but somehow her boobs manage not to spill from her top. Is she using an adhesive to keep that flimsy thing in place? Pretty brilliant. "I merely gave an innocent youth a few kissing lessons. So that he may please his ladylove better, of course." Yeah right. I bet she's just hoping things go awry between this boy and his girl because she finds out he's put his lips where they shouldn't be. My word; the next time I'd better keep an eye on her.

Alistair's face crumples in a mild expression of disgust. "Ew, I hope that's not some kind of euphemism for something else."

"Kisses do not need to be given on the lips, Alistair..." Morrigan teases him.

"Oh, dear Maker!" He clutches his hands to his eyes and groans. "Cannot... unsee..."

I sigh. "Come on you two, that's enough. Let's find the others and decide on what we're going to do."


	125. The Brecilian Forest - Almost Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our adventurers have their first taste of the Brecilian Forest.

### The Brecilian Forest - Almost Normal

I hate having to leave Collin behind, I really do. But I can't very well take him into a haunted forest where a werewolf might gobble him up in one gulp, so I left him in Morrigan's care. Stubbs is also with them, just in case. You never know what might happen, and he's so taken with the witch that he was happy to stay behind. She isn't very thrilled with the way the hound is begging for her attention, but when a dog likes you, he likes you. Not much to be done about that, short of kicking him. But not even Morrigan would be that cruel.

My baby still only feeds on breast milk, so I put some in a bottle for Morrigan to give to him. I tell you, squeezing out enough to fill a bottle is hard work. If only I could take him with me. Thankfully he was hungry just before we left and won't need more for at least an hour or two, but I really hope that the amount I left him with is enough. What else is he going to drink? This may sound terrible, but I have considered giving my boy away. Or just having someone else take care of him until this is over. After all, this Blight is keeping me so occupied and I can't take him into battle with me. I love my son, of course I do, but I also want the best for him. This is really something I need to thoroughly consider.

Anyway, in the end we decided to take a party of four into the forest. Alistair complained and said we should take more, but it feels right this way. I feel compelled to have only three others with me. So it's Alistair, Wynne, Shale and myself. Nothing kicks wholesale ass like a stone giant. Strangely enough, it is eerily quiet here. No birds singing (which is good, because then the golem won't be distracted), hardly any animals. There are darkspawn here though, I feel them, but they're not close enough to bother us yet. Now that I spend my nights without a lover to keep me occupied, I've begun dreaming of them again. Damned darkspawn. They're easy enough to tune out though; I only need to focus on something pleasant, and they leave me alone.

Alistair is behaving rather strangely. Normally he'd be chewing my ear off, but he's very quiet. It makes me a tad curious. "Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, so alone and palely loitering?"

"What?" He sends me a puzzled look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just thought some poetry might cheer you up." I shrug. "You look troubled. Is something wrong?"

His eyebrows knit together in a frown. "Maybe, I don't know." A long sigh. "I feel funny."

"You don't look very amusing." A very poor attempt at a joke, I know. "Never mind, that's not funny. Would you like to talk about it, maybe?"

He looks around suspiciously. "Later then, just you and me."

"Sure, whatever you want. I hope we'll get this wrapped up soon." Collin needs me. "Do you think everyone's all right there with the Dalish?"

"Of course, I don't see why not." The Warden snickers under his breath. "Maybe right now, as we speak, Zev is getting the living daylights slapped out of him."

His laughter quickly dies away as deafening howls ring through the forest. Our first werewolves. Joy.

~*|'-'|*~

Several dead wolves, werewolves and bears later, we're standing face to face with a trio of werewolves that don't seem to want to kill us. At least not right away. The werewolf in the middle growls. It's about three heads taller than me, even with the way it stands hunched over. Eep. "The watch-wolves have spoken truly, brothers and sisters." Its yellow eyes size all of us up in turn. "The Dalish send a human, to repay us for our attack. What bitter irony."

"Hey, you speak!" Wow. "The Dalish had us think you were savage animals."

"We are beasts, but no longer simple and mindless," it says with a growl. "Let that thought chill your spine."

Shale pounds her fists together. "Can't we just crush them and get this over with?"

"You speak to Swiftrunner." The werewolf wisely chooses to ignore her. "I lead my cursed brothers and sisters. Go back to the Dalish and tell them you have failed. Tell them we will gladly watch them suffer the same curse we have suffered too long. We will watch them pay!"

"Can't we just talk?" I put on my kindest voice. "I don't mean to hurt you in any way." Unless you attack me, of course. Then I'll have to defend myself. Which means you die.

Swiftrunner snorts loudly. "Was it not Zathrian who sent you? He wishes only our destruction, never to talk!"

"Is there really no way this can be resolved peacefully?" Alistair pipes up. It's good to see him do some of the talking. Practice for later.

"The time for peace is long past." The werewolf growls. "There will be no peace between the elves and we who are cursed."

"Could you tell me more of your curse?" So far all I know is that the bite of a werewolf might make you one. Or it might make you dead.

In a huff, Swiftrunner snarls: "You know nothing, do you? Nothing of us, and even less of those you serve. You are a fool, and we are done talking. Come, brothers and sisters, let us retreat. The forest will deal with intruders as it always has." And so the three run off.

"That last thing he said, about the forest dealing with intruders," Alistair muses. "It sounded ominous. I wonder what he meant by that." Well, so do I, but we will see for ourselves soon enough.

~*|'-'|*~

Living trees. Sure, why not? _Angry_ living trees. I got to try out my new healing spell, and it works like a charm. Three people and a golem healed, with one spell. The novelty of this is probably never going to wear off. I'm studying the one for revival every free moment I have, but I don't have it nailed yet. So far, we've not encountered any changed paths. That's good. Strange to find dead templars in this place. Were they looking for apostates? Probably. It's not like they do much else when they're away from their Chantry. Unless they are out buying a ring for their forbidden mage girlfriend. Yes Cullen, I'm looking at you.

Suddenly a tree stirs, greater than any I've seen so far. And with a suspiciously anthropomorphic look about it. "Hmm, what manner of beast be thee, that comes before this elder tree?" Sweet Andraste, it's a rhyming tree! Now I've seen it all.

"Uhm, I'm a human, can't you see? Perhaps I am too small for thee." Never thought I'd see the day I would be talking to a tree. Much less join it in its rhyming. Great fun!

The tree comes closer and bends, as if to take a better look. "Ah yes, I remember thy kind. So brief of life and all but blind to the peril you cause, the lives you take, such chaos is sown within thy wake." How I wish I wasn't too lazy to bring out my quill and paper. These rhymes are awesome. "Allow me a moment to welcome thee: I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder Tree."

"It... rhymes?" Shale sounds flabbergasted. "It's a rhyming tree. What kind of strange magic is this?"

"The world is certainly full of... marvellous, unexpected creations." Wynne seems to be wondering whether she's not dreaming or just plain high as a kite. "Each day we see something we never thought possible."

Funnily enough, Alistair says nothing. He just looks up at the tree as if he hears them talking and rhyming every day. I wonder what's going through his mind right now.

"And unless thou thinkst it far too soon," the Grand Oak continues, "might I ask of thee a boon?"

I shrug. "Yes, but not if this boon leads us to our doom." We're everybody's errand boys, why not help a tree out, right? Besides, this could make an interesting tavern tale. Something to tell Collin when he's a big boy. Heh, something to tell Cullen if I ever have the time to visit him again. He'll probably call me crazy.

"I have only one desire, to solve a matter very dire." The Oak sighs, shaking its leaves. "As I slept one early morn, a thief did come and stole an acorn."

"And you want this acorn returned to you. Tell me, is this true?"

The Grand Oak nods emphatically. "All I have is my being, my seed. Without it I am alone indeed. I cannot go and seek it out; yet I shall die if left without."

"Count on us, Elder Tree. We shall get thy acorn back for thee." We'll probably come across this acorn-thief on the way. Let's live a little.

"Go to the east to find this man. I shall await, do what thou can." With that, the tree stiffens once more, assuming its old position. Almost like a normal tree. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth's weird remark to Alistair about palely loitering is from _La Belle Dame Sans Merci_ by John Keats.


	126. The Brecilian Forest - Boobies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oghren gets an eyeful.

### The Brecilian Forest - Boobies

"Hey, can you hear that?" My ears pick up a groaning noise. "Sounds like someone is hurt."

Lo and behold, not too far away from us a tattered elf is lying on the ground, desperately trying to get up. "What? Wh-who...?" He looks up at me, his face caked with blood from several wounds. His eyes are an eerily pale grey colour.

"You are hurt very badly." I kneel beside him. "What happened to you?"

"We were sent to find Witherfang," he speaks feebly. "Bring his heart. Attacked! I..." His eyes roll back into his head as he faints. There's not much left of his leather armour; his entire body is covered in deep wounds. Claw marks only; no bites, it would seem. Some of them are still gushing blood. Ouch. I use a simple healing spell, so at least his most severe injuries become a little less severe. Small nicks disappear, greater wounds scab over and cease their bleeding. He needs to be returned to his people.

I get back on my feet. "Shale? Can you carry him for me? Carefully."

"Very well." She grumbles and picks the elf up, handling him like a delicate object.

"We should get this guy back to the camp. Does everyone agree?" I look around and see that Alistair and Wynne nod gravely. "Great, let's go."

~*|'-'|*~

Even before we've reached the Dalish camp, the woman who welcomed us before greets us again. I believe Zathrian called her Mithra. Lovely name. " _Andaran atish'an_ , Grey Wardens." Now that she knows we haven't come to kick her clan from the woods, her icy demeanour has thawed. "Our scouts saw you approaching and tell me you carry the body of one of our hunters with you." A look of relief washes over her face as she inspects Shale's passenger. "Ah, Deygan! He is wounded, but I think he will live. _Ma serannas_ , your help is appreciated. Come, _lethallin_." She gestures for the two men with her to take the wounded elf from the golem's arms. "Let us take Deygan to the keeper, and quickly. If we are lucky, we may still save him!" With great haste they run off to do their thing.

"Well, now that we're here, I might as well check up on Collin." I continue on to the camp and find Morrigan sitting in the shade of a tree, rocking my baby before her chest. "Hi Morrigan, how are things going here?" I sit myself beside her and pat Collin on the head. He is sleeping soundly.

"They are going very well. He is so quiet and well-behaved." She smiles. "The little one seems to be particularly interested in my necklaces."

Heh, cute. "They _are_ sparkly. I apologise if he has broken anything."

"Oh no, nothing is broken. He merely touches them and stares in rapture." Her expression turns more serious. "I have changed his diaper and fed him some milk, but perhaps you would fill the bottle again? I fear we shall run out of it otherwise."

And now I feel even more sympathy for cows. "Sure. Give it to me." I spy around, but there aren't many people in this spot, and the ones that are, aren't looking at us. Screw it, I'm too lazy to hide for this. I press the bottle (a quarter of milk gone already) against my bared breast and squeeze; not much comes out. Ugh, this is going to take a while.

"Perhaps I can help." Morrigan laughs. "You are not a cow, Warden. This is not the way to extract mother's milk." Instructing me to hold the bottle steady, her slim fingers begin kneading and massaging my breast just around the nipple. I don't know how she's doing it, but it feels almost as if I'm really nursing. Instead of droplets, a little stream of milk flows out. "You see, the trick is to simulate the child's suckling. Bare the other one."

I obediently do as she commands. "Can I do this without any help?"

"I doubt that. However, I am sure the old cat will assist you." The witch chuckles. "Or Alistair might be willing, if you have no problems with his head exploding."

"I do, actually." I roll my eyes. "Guess who is going to have to clean up the mess afterward?"

She laughs delightedly. "Oh, I do enjoy your sense of humour."

"My humour, or the mental image of Alistair's head exploding?"

Her lips curl into a wicked smile. "Hmmm... Perhaps 'tis a bit of both."

"Hot." A familiar voice, accompanied by a lascivious chuckle.

I look up to find Oghren standing there, his eyes fixed on my chest. Where Morrigan is still busily extracting milk from me. I hadn't quite realized how very inappropriate this is. "Enjoying the show?"

"Yeah!" He nods enthusiastically. "Any chance you ladies are going to continue this in private somewhere, with less clothes on?"

Morrigan sighs in exasperation. "Men and their perverted fancies." She neatly buttons my robes up for me. "There, all done." With a smile she picks my baby up from her lap and continues rocking him in her arms.

"Perverted fancies? _You're_ the one playing with another gal's boobs!" the dwarf exclaims angrily.

"Oh, you should have seen the time she poured honey all over her body and let me lick it off." I wink at Morrigan, which earns me an amused look from her.

Just as I think I've broken him, Oghren screams: "By the tits of my ancestors! _Really_?"

"No, my dear friend was jesting." The witch drapes her arm around my shoulders, a sensual tone in her voice. "I merely fed her honey by hand, letting her suck the sticky sweetness from my fingers."

I add: "Don't forget the time we bathed together."

"Also hot." He sighs blissfully. "That's going to keep me warm for many nights to come."

"You know, Oghren, we never really talk." I beckon him to come closer, and the dwarf sits down in front of me. "How are you?"

There is still a dreamy grin plastered to his face. "Heh, boobies... I mean, I'm fine. Why?"

"How are you coping with Branka's death, for instance?" I'm guessing with lots and lots of alcohol, and his... Oghren time. Lots of polishing of his sword going on in his tent. And he doesn't even _have_ an actual sword.

"That sodding great dew-licker had a heart clad in iron. She only had one love: the Anvil. And later, the Anvil." He shrugs. "I'll be fine."

I pat him on the head. "Good to hear." Even if I'm quite sure he's lying. Recently he was drunk and called me a wool-gnawing poetess who had stolen his princess away. I've no idea how he could've mistaken me for Hespith, but it speaks volumes. He misses Branka still. Or maybe not, seeing how shortly after that, he propositioned me. I think. Something about sauce for a rump roast. Well, whatever the case may be, I sadly don't have the time for this now. I get up. "I should collect the others, so we can continue our search. I'll see you when we get back."


	127. The Brecilian Forest - The Evil Camp Site

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the tin.

### The Brecilian Forest - The Evil Camp Site 

"That's odd." There is a camp here, ready to be used. It's not far away from where we found the wounded hunter. A fire is smouldering, bedrolls are laid out, tents set up. But not a soul is present here. "Where are the campers?"

"This looks very inviting, doesn't it?" Still, Wynne looks at the site suspiciously. "How is it that it has been abandoned?"

I shrug. "No idea. Let's investigate." Hmm, a fire would be nice right now; it's a little cold in this eerily quiet forest. Those glowing embers are beckoning me to light them, and revel in the warmth. When did I get so tired? It's like I haven't slept in so long. Something is wrong. "Don't look at the fire pit; it will drain your strength. Are you all suddenly tired too?" The tents are cosy and inviting, the bedrolls warm and inviting. Everything is inviting. It feels like a trap, and at the same time, it doesn't.

"No." Shale chuckles. "I am not bothered by such bodily functions."

Alistair yawns loudly. "The elves didn't set this up. Strange. And yet it all seems so... friendly." He yawns again, stretching his back. "I want to do nothing but remain."

"I feel... magic here." The old lady is already straining to find words. "We should leave."

I literally have to pull myself away from the bedroll. I need some sleep. Desperately. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I am knackered..." Screw it. Just a tiny bit of shuteye won't hurt.

~*|'-'|*~

Brrrrr, how cold this water is! It takes my breath away. But no matter the temperature, nothing is going to stop Astoreth from having her bath. The last time was too long ago. I can't stop thinking of how beautiful this forest is, even with its creepy atmosphere. Constantly it feels as if something is watching me, and I don't mean squirrels or werewolves. Unnatural beings from beyond the Veil. Best not think about that. I pinch my nose shut and dunk my entire body into the water. _Argh_ , that's so cold! Cold and refreshing.

As I'm wringing out my hair, powerful arms envelop me from behind. I feel a muscular body close to me, rigid flesh pressing against the small of my back. Hot, hungry kisses are administered to my neck and shoulders. A familiar scent. "Alistair, what exactly do you think you're doing?"

"It's called foreplay, my dear." He laughs softly, his strong hands skimming my curves. "I know you like to skip right to the main event, but let me play with you for now." Fingers linger on my breasts; judging from the approving hums in my ear he likes them a lot.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" This isn't like him. "I don't want you to touch me like this." _Liar_. Of course you want him to touch you like that. Still, there is something very wrong here.

"You don't?" A hand slips between my thighs. "Then why are you so wet?"

I have to suppress a moan when his fingertips teasingly graze my button. "Well, in all fairness, I _am_ standing in water here."

"I know the difference between water and a woman's wetness," he chuckles. He is now circling my clit with determined motions.

"You're not supposed to know that. You're a virgin, for crying out loud!" Where did he learn this? My knees are beginning to tremble. It's been a while since a man touched me.

The circling stops; instead, a finger slides into me. "A virgin, me? Not after you took care of that so thoroughly."

"You'd think I would remember that." And then suddenly I do remember it. It was weeks ago, that Alistair burst into my tent in the middle of the night and began kissing me, caressing me. His touch was desperate, his body burning hot. My senses respond to the memory, this memory and those of all the things we've done since. Even as physically I can't help but wriggle in his arms, mentally I am very uncomfortable with the situation. How is it that Alistair is so easy to accost a woman while she bathes? Where did those memories come from so suddenly? As I remember it, he is an adorable, bumbling boy who wouldn't know a cunt from a cauliflower. This doesn't make any sense.

And there is something else that is off. But what is that exactly? Ah. Realization hits me like a mallet to the chest. The infernal whisperings of the taint, humming at the edge of consciousness whenever he is near. They're absent. I remember now. The strange camp in the Brecilian Forest. I twist from his grasp and turn. "You're not him."

The creature that is wearing my friend's guise utters a low, menacing chuckle. Instead of hazel puppy eyes, this one has empty black orbs behind its lids, gleaming like polished onyx. "What a shame. You and I could have had such _great_ fun."

"Gah!" I awake with a start. Alistair is lying right next to me, sleeping like a child. I shake his shoulder vigorously and yell at him, but nothing works. The same goes for Wynne. "Guys, wake up!" This camp site is evil. "Shale?"

"Yes?" As it turns out, the golem is standing beside me. "It has decided to wake up? That is good, because there is a demon right over there."

Of course! It's a demon luring unwitting travellers to their doom with this deceptively inviting, but evil campsite! That explains everything! Better make sure it will never do that again.

~*|'-'|*~

With the demon's demise, so the treacherous invitation of the camp ceases to exist as well. I was lucky Shale was awake to help me, because without her, I'd have probably been killed. My mana pool could stand to be a bit deeper. Fucking demons. Hate them! Apparently the camp has been here for a very long time. Skeletons of victims are lying on the ground, still curled up into a sleeping position. If that incredibly sexy dream had been more convincing, I could have been one of them. The camping paraphernalia that were set up apparently weren't even real. The two sleepers open their eyes.

"That was a good nap," Alistair proclaims in a mighty yawn. "A really good nap. Whoa, where did all these dead people come from?" He scrambles to his feet.

"What happened?" Wynne sits up and rubs her eyes.

I sigh. Tired. "This camp was some demon's trick to lure travellers to their doom. It's gone now, so it won't happen again."

"Good to see you took care of that." The Warden looks at Shale. "Shale, is everything okay with you?"

"A little chipped, but otherwise I am in great condition." She makes it sound as if he posed a very stupid question. It's not his fault he's caring.

He lays an arm around my shoulders. "Are you all right? You look a bit pale."

"I'm drained, not a drop of mana left." I show him my arm, where the demon managed to get in a hit. My sleeve is ripped, deep claw marks in my upper arm. It hurts a little. "It would be great if we could rest sometime soon, seeing how I can't use any lyrium."

In the meantime, Wynne has brought out her supply of bandages and medicines to care for my wounds. "Of course. Just hold on a little longer, dear; we still have a bit of daylight left."


	128. The Brecilian Forest - Ah, Virgins...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wardens have a serious talk.

### The Brecilian Forest - Ah, Virgins...

That bit of daylight turned out to be over two hours. Two hours in which we encountered more angry werewolves and I had to hide behind Alistair to stay safe. Ugh, all this Grey Warden business is seriously taking its toll on me. I'm a new mother, I should be resting and knitting little socks for Collin or something. Not that I know how to knit, but this would be an excellent opportunity to learn. Instead we're going after complicated errand after complicated errand. I sure picked the right time to raise a child. Well, enough of my whining. I'm lucky to be where I am. Wynne has already turned in for the night, and I doubt Shale gives a fig about our conversation, so: "Ready for that talk?"

Alistair looks up from staring into the fire. "Oh, right." With a sigh he scratches his head. "Do you ever get the feeling that it's all becoming a bit too much for you?"

"Yeah, pretty much all the time." I shrug. "But that army isn't going to come to us, so there is no time for personal stuff. Is there anything in particular bothering you?"

"I don't want to be king." There is a sad look in his eyes. "Do you think I should be? Am I fit to rule this country?"

I open my arms, and tightly hug him when he comes into my embrace. "I really can't answer that for you. What do _you_ think?"

He shrugs. "Oh, I don't know. I'm not very political; I'd rather be fighting darkspawn. It is what I do best."

"Well..." I run my fingers through his hair. "This is something you should decide all on your own. In your life, many decisions have been made for you, no?" He nods quietly. "Becoming king should be _your_ decision, and yours alone. So don't listen to Arl Eamon, or me, or anyone else. Just think about what you want." I realize that's about as vague as you can get, but I don't want to put any thoughts in his head that shouldn't be there. It should be his choice.

"Thanks." His arms wrap around my waist, his body so very close to mine. And just earlier today I was sent a dream about him touching me most inappropriately. We're familiar with each other, but not _that_ familiar. Still, the idea has so much erotic potential, I've been a tad overexcited since I woke up earlier. It's time I brought out Branka's toy again. "I'm glad you trust me to make my own decisions. But seriously, do you think I would make a good king?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Honestly?"

"Oh, I don't like the sound of that. But yes, really, honestly, tell me what you think," he begs.

"I don't think you would make a good king, no." Dramatic silence. "I think you would make a _great_ king. You've got a good head on your shoulders, you are understanding, you've even become considerably more eloquent over the course of our travels. And last but not least..." I pinch his cheek. "You'd look really dapper with a crown on."

He playfully swats at my arm. "Your idea of funny will be the death of me yet, woman. So you wouldn't mind if I'd become king?"

"Nope." I plant a kiss atop his head. "We would all be very well off with you. Is there more bothering you?"

A long sigh rolls from his lips. "I don't know. Everything is just so strange. I mean, that tree today... Was that really a talking tree? I couldn't wrap my head around it. Sometimes I think this is all an insane dream, and I'm going to wake up and get scolded for missing my morning exercises."

"You know, in the Dead Trenches, do you remember the army of darkspawn we saw down in that deep gorge?" The memory is chilling. "When I looked down, I felt as if the entire world was teetering on the edge of that precipice, and you and I are the only ones to prevent it from falling in and being destroyed. It's an overwhelming feeling."

"Wow." For several minutes, my companion is silent. "I never thought of it like that. You're definitely not making me feel better with that."

Okay, so much for sharing my own feelings. "I apologize. Never mind me then."

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. Being a Grey Warden is a tough job. Especially if there are only two of us." Leaning his head against my shoulder, he speaks softly: "Thanks for letting me vent. Talking to you really helps."

Such a sweet thing of him to say. "It was my pleasure." I unwind my arms from around his shoulders and cup his face in my hands. "Now, if there is nothing else, I would like to go to sleep." Fighting the urge to steal a kiss from his lips, I press my mouth to his forehead instead.

"No, I feel a lot better. Thank you." There is a look on his face I've never seen before, as his eyes seem to sweep across my features. He is irresistible, with the way the light and shadows of the fire play on his face, but I really shouldn't. His purity is not for me to ruin, no matter how much I'd like that. But simply the thought of his powerful frame is enough to make me week in the knees. Why, why don't I miss Jowan more? Is it simply as he said, that I've become so practical that I feel his sentence is deserved? Well, to be perfectly honest, it's convenient not to be racked with guilt.

"Sweet dreams then." Briefly I press his face against my bosom in a hug. "By the way, did you dream while you slept in that strange camp?"

His eyes light up considerably; he nods with enthusiasm. "Oh yes! I dreamt I had a twelve foot dinner table all to myself, and on it were so many kinds of cheese!" He's almost drooling. "Gooey cheese, firm cheese, stinky cheese, scentless cheese, salty cheese, spicy cheese..."

I can't help but laugh. "My friend, your love of cheese borders on the inappropriate."

"Maybe a little," he admits, cheeks slightly reddened. "But it's just so good! What did you dream of?"

Telling him the truth is pretty much out of the question. "I dreamt of Cullen, and Jowan. Do I need to tell you more, or can you fill in the blanks yourself?"

"Yes, I can fill them in myself, thanks." His face turns a bright red. I fancy that his blushing isn't caused only by embarrassment. "Well, uhm, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Alistair dear." Heh, virgins.


	129. The Brecilian Forest - Hooray for Turnips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan takes Astoreth and Collin along for some minor mischief.

### The Brecilian Forest - Hooray for Turnips

Something cold and wet is poking into my cheek. "What?" I stir and feel a weight on my chest. This is weird. The first thing I see when I open my eyes, is a familiar little face, grinning widely and toothlessly. "Huh? Collin?"

He coos happily and immediately grabs a boob. I swear, if it were any other guy, I'd smack him. So good to see you again, pumpkin! I hug him close. The cold, wet thing that was prodding me turns out to be a wolf's nose. A wolf with golden eyes, purple rings around the irises. "Hi, Morrigan." I pat her head. Such soft, thick fur.

She shifts into her human form. The process happens so quickly, I can't even describe it. One moment she is a wolf, a woman the next. "Hello, my friend. How goes the search?"

"We've not found Witherfang yet." Cradling Collin in my arms, I sit up and expose my chest so he can feed. "Did you have any trouble finding us?"

"No, none at all. Your scent is easy to follow." The witch chuckles. "And of course, there is the stink of cheese that Alistair exudes, and the sickening smell of lavender from Wynne. 'Twould have been impossible to miss."

I look around; Alistair's bedroll is empty, but Wynne still seems to be sleeping. "Okay, well, that's good. You didn't run into any werewolves?"

"The little one and I kept to the shadows and made sure they could not smell us." Her eyes take on a naughty sparkle. "What I did run into on the way here, was Alistair taking a bath. Care to spy on him with me?"

Alistair, taking a bath? Naked? Drops of water running down his body? Count me in. "I most certainly do."

We sneak through a variety of Brecilian vegetation and push away low-hanging branches, making nary a sound. Eventually we reach a cliff overlooking a small body of water. And another, definitely more spectacular body that is happily splashing around in it. We crouch low and stare ourselves silly.

"Are you as fascinated with this as I am?" Morrigan whispers. Her eyes are eagerly devouring Alistair's form.

"Uhuh..." Oh, Maker's breath. His muscles ripple with each one of his movements, his skin slick and glistening. The water is opaque from up here, and tantalizingly reaches up to his navel. Oh, my. We've truly struck gold with this. I could just lick it for hours. Uh, I mean, I could stare at him for hours. If Jowan were still around, I would tease him about how Morrigan and I were having fun spying on Alistair's bath time. He would then throw a fit about how I like the Warden better, giving me no choice but to prove my love to him. Mmm... I do miss him, but without any pain in my heart. At least that's something. "So you're convinced of his charms now too, are you?"

The witch shrugs. "I can find absolutely no fault at all with his exterior. If Alistair were to forever cease speaking, then he might be considered perfect."

"Really? I like hearing him talk." I shift my weight to my other foot. Unexpectedly, Collin makes a noise as he pushes away my breast. "Sssh, little darling. Mommy's very busy spying on uncle Alistair right now." Promptly the child snaps his mouth shut. He's so smart. I run my fingers through his fuzzy hair. "Good boy."

"I do not know how you can suffer his inane babbling." She takes Collin from me and rubs his back to elicit a little burp from him. Instead of a little burp, however, it is a fearsome roar. In the water, Alistair freezes in alarm and looks around. Thankfully it doesn't occur to him to look up. "We had better leave." Morrigan gives the baby a stern look. "This is the last time we shall take you along for such a stealthy operation." He simply grins in response and grabs one of her necklaces to suck on a bead.

As quietly as we came here, we leave again. "Do you have enough milk left to last about a day?" I ask her as we halt a small distance from our little camp. "I hope we won't be gone much longer."

"The bottle still contains enough, yes. I merely came to strengthen your bond." The witch carefully wraps my son in my scarf. "This is an important time for you and your child; you must not spend too much time away from him."

"Trust me, I don't like it either." I sigh. "But I have no choice, and besides, I know he is safe in your care. Thank you for bringing him here." Briefly I hug her.

Morrigan nods. "'Twas no trouble at all. Stay safe, and hopefully we shall see you again soon." When she has turned into a wolf, I loop the scarf with my child around her neck. Silently she trots away. How kind of her to go through all this trouble and even share some sneaky girl-bonding time with me. She truly has changed.

I arrive back at the makeshift camp almost simultaneously with Alistair. I had half expected him to walk in with only a towel wrapped around his waist, but alas, he is fully dressed. He looks very different with his hair plastered to his head like that. Wynne looks up from the breakfast she is cooking us. Turnips, oh goody. "Good morning, Alistair."

"Good morning!" He grins joyfully. "Did you sleep well?"

"Oh, it is far too cold here for these old bones," Wynne complains. "Not even the fire helped."

"Aw..." He shoots her a pitying look. "Maybe we should huddle a bit closer then, next time."

The old lady nods quietly. "Yes please, that would be very welcome."

"How about you, Aster?" Alistair picks me up and briefly swings me around. "See, I made up a nice nickname for you! Do you like it?"

Aster. Hmm. "Sure. Does it have any special kind of meaning?"

"You don't know what an aster is?" He raises a curious eyebrow at me. "It's a kind of flower. Long, narrow petals in bright pink and purple colours and a yellow heart."

"Oh, in that case I like it a lot." Being likened to a flower, even if it's only coincidentally, is always nice. It beats being called Ass. "How did you sleep?"

His cheeks turn red in a furious blush. I have no idea why though. Maybe he was just galloping his maggot again. Jerkin' his gherkin. Or... Oh dear. Before going to sleep, I used my toy to bring myself off several times. Damn it, I thought everyone was sound asleep. Ah, well. That will teach me. "I-I uh... I slept great. You?"

"So did I." Standing on my tiptoes, I press a soft kiss on his cheek. Burning hot. "Well then, let's have some of those lovely turnips, shall we?" Bleh, turnips. I hate them almost as much as I hate demons.


	130. The Brecilian Forest - Questions, Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just your typical Brecilian Forest weirdness.

### The Brecilian Forest - Questions, Questions

I feel sad. A little. We came across a female werewolf (not that I could tell that from sight, mind you), who was in obvious pain. And still wearing a scarf. Danyla was her name. After she'd told me about the ruin in the middle of the forest where the werewolves have their base, she begged me to end her life and bring her scarf to her husband. I think that this Athras is the one Leliana had spoken to. I really had to pet her, I couldn't resist. Don't judge me; I like animals, even big, tough and scary ones. She gave me a funny look, but didn't protest. Just begged me to show mercy. So... I pulled out my dagger and stabbed her in the heart. "Gods bless you," she said, right before she died. Killing living creatures brings me no satisfaction, but sometimes, it is the only solution. Danyla was suffering too much from this curse. I hope that now she can be at ease. And her husband too, when he finds out what truly happened to her. Maybe I should leave out the fact that it was me who killed her.

This is unexpected. Just before us, is a camping site for one person. A red-haired elf, tattoos on his face, appears to be sitting around idly. In a werewolf-infested area. Carefree and uninjured. How...? He jumps up as soon as he sees us approach. "Friends, turn back, please," he speaks urgently. "These woods are a danger to those who..."

"Aneirin?" Wynne's eyes instantly light up and become suspiciously shiny at the same time.

"Come," I whisper to Alistair and Shale. "Let's just leave them to talk for a moment."

They both nod; we discretely hover nearby while the senior enchantress and her former apprentice catch up, or she asks him about what happened to him. It's so personal, this is none of my business. Now that she knows that he is still alive, maybe her one single regret may be resolved. So she can do something else that is really unwise. Like getting drunk and having sex with Oghren, or something.

~*|'-'|*~

I hear a loud *poof* behind me and turn around. Where there was nobody before, now stands an old man with a beard. Did he just _literally_ pop up? This place is fucking weird. Staff at his back. Appearing as if by magic. A mage. An apostate. Templars would be having a field day with this one, no doubt.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" the old man babbles. Funny, nervous voice. "Not a werewolf and not a spirit even, what are the woods coming to?" Someone seems confused.

I roll my eyes. "Okay, whatever, let's just go."

"Questions, questions, always questions!" ...I didn't even ask anything, so that he's so aggravated about it makes absolutely no sense. "They say it was questions that made me mad; will it do the same for you? Ask a question and you will get a question, but give an answer and you'll receive the same! Oh, I do so love to trade!" Gleefully the nutcase claps his hands.

"So you want me to answer a question?" See, now we're getting somewhere.

The crazy guy sends me a smug look. "Wouldn't I have to ask a question first?"

Right, let's cut this a little short. "Would you like to ask me a question?"

"I think it is your turn to ask, is it not?" he answers, nodding enthusiastically.

"Warden." I push him forward. "You're going to play the game with this peculiar gentleman."

"What? Why _me_?" he whines. "I don't talk to people, that's your job."

I fold my arms under my breasts. "Beg pardon? You're the one wearing the Warden-Commander armour, friend. Consider it a forced lesson in diplomacy. Go ahead, ask him about the Grand Oak's acorn." This is the eastern part of the forest, after all, and I doubt there are many suspects. There is Aneirin, but he's a great fan of nature apparently, so that's not a likely acorn thief. Wynne told me all about their chat. Even proudly showed me this amulet he gave her. The old lady really looks happy.

"Fine." Giving me a dirty look, he steps before the old man. "Do you have the Grand Oak's acorn?"

"Ahhhh..." The wrinkled face takes on a shifty expression. "Suddenly it all becomes clear! You here, that talking tree there, it all makes sense now. Yes, I do have its acorn. I stole it, and it was easy. If you want it, you'll have to trade me for it! And nothing from that silly tree either." You know, it appears to be a good idea for this man to live here. I doubt that he would function well in society. The constant cackling and rubbing together of hands is a bit odd. "But that's all I have to say about that. An answer for an answer, there you go!"

Alistair nods thoughtfully. "Do you want to ask me a question?"

"May I? Oh, I think I might!" Scratching his beard, the hermit mumbles in contemplation. "What is your name?" he finally asks.

"My name is Bob," my colleague returns, absolutely stone-faced. So this is a lesson in lying to strangers as well. One cannot have too many skills at their disposal as a king, I suppose.

The old man squeezes one eye shut and shoots him an obviously distrusting look. "So you claim, but I'm onto you! _They_ sent you! Can't fool me though." He lets loose a mad giggle. "But it's your turn to ask now. Ask! Ask away! I dare you!"

"So, uh..." From the tone of his voice and the way his mouth is twitching, I'd say Alistair is amused by this lunatic. "Do you live here?" He gestures to the makeshift camp, and the tree stump that seems to have a tiny room built into it. Maybe he's a contortionist too.

"Yes, I live here and it's not as bad as you think. Where else to go, eh? I must stay away from _them_!" The old man's beady eyes dart around randomly, as if he's frantically searching for something. His mind, perhaps? He sure seems to have lost it. "They are out there and looking! They will take your secrets, yes, all of them and leave you empty! Now, what to ask..." Again his withered fingers pull at his beard in reflection. "Hmmm... Where were you born?"

My fellow Warden grins. "I was born in a bed."

"That's what _you_ say!" More paranoid behaviour. "How do I know it wasn't in a stable, eh? Or under a tree? Hm? Hm? I will see through your facade yet, mark my words!" The warning look the hermit has in his eyes is utterly comical. "Ask! Ask away! _I dare you_!" Nervously he begins chewing his grimy nails.

"I'd better speed this up, no matter how much fun I'm having," Al mutters under his breath. No more dirty looks for me, I think. "Do you have anything to trade?"

The madman reaches behind him and conjures up a dented helmet, putting it on his head. It's way too big. From the chest pocket of his shirt, comes an acorn and some crumpled papers from his pants pocket. "Let's see, I'll trade you an acorn, a helmet I found or a book I finished years ago. Provided you have something in return."

"I'd like the acorn." Alistair is eyeing the little thing greedily for some reason. Crazy rubs off.

"Oho! And what do you have to trade for the acorn?" Teasingly, the old man keeps it out of the boy's reach.

Briefly Alistair makes his thinking noise before his eyes light up. "I have cake!" With that, he begins rummaging through his pack. And produces a cake that looks awfully familiar.

"A cake you say?" The hermit gives the item a curious look. "What kind of cake is it?"

After a brief sniff, my handsome friend makes a face. " _Pickled_ cake, from the smell of it."

"Pickled cake? How very unusual. It will be an excellent accompaniment to my braised werewolf tail, on a bed of canavaris pâté and garnished with a coulis of Andraste's Grace. Give me that!" He snatches the cake away, leaving the acorn in Alistair's hand. "There, now that's done. What else have you got on your agenda, hmm?" Immediately he tears off a chunk and stuffs it down his mouth. _Ewww_!

"I should go, goodbye." Grinning in amusement, Alistair grabs me by the arm and begins pulling me in a different direction. Wynne and Shale follow suit. "That guy is completely bonkers," he whispers, making a whirlpool movement next to his temple with a forefinger.

"Oh, I see!" the old man screams behind us. "You're going to report to _them_ now, are you? _Fine_. Good _day_ to you, ser!"

I give my friend a curious look. "So, Bob, that was the cake I gave you just before Lothering, wasn't it? Why on earth have you kept it for so long?"

"Well..." His cheeks turn a deep shade of pink. "It was a present from you, so I couldn't just throw it away. I couldn't eat it either, since it was old to begin with and Stubbs had drooled on it."

"Aw, aren't you just the sweetest?" I give his cheek a little pinch. "Fair enough though. I have kept the muddy bloomers Stubbs brought me once. And your rose." That's begun wilting, sadly. Still, it's quite a long time that it's stayed fresh. "So how'd the diplomacy thing go for you?"

He shrugs. "It's not bad, I guess. I'd still prefer it if you did the talking." Proudly he shows me the acorn. "Should we bring it back right away, or would you rather check out this area some more?"

"Let's just look around some more."


	131. The Brecilian Forest - Smashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventurers get closer to the heart of what's really going on.

### The Brecilian Forest - Smashing

That... was weird. At least now we know what everyone means by the forest keeping out intruders all on its own. We encountered a foggy area, near some ruins. So we go in, we don't see a single thing while we stumble around in there, and when we get out, we're back where we started. Even though we walked in a straight line. Stupid forest. The hermit wouldn't tell us either what that is about. Unless we would kill the Grand Oak. I see no reason to kill an awesome rhyming tree. It's done nothing to me. Except for a jolt of inspiration maybe. Ha-ha. Anyway, we just decided to return the acorn. Maybe the tree can help us.

"Can I give it? Can I?" Alistair gives me the adorable-little-boy-look, an unmistakably happy sparkle in his eyes. "Can I?"

"Sure you can." I pat him on the back. "You were the one who got it back, you take the credit."

"Yay, thank you!" Excitedly he runs up to the great tree. "Hello, Grand Oak!"

Aww, look at that. Isn't he just adorable? Sometimes he's so much like a child, I almost forget that he's a grown man. But then I look at him, and I remember. Heh, the things I remember. Giving him a massage, lying in bed with him, pressed against his mostly naked body. And more recently, watching him bathe. Good times. Oh, and Alistair making sweet, sweet love to Jowan. No, wait, that only happened in my head.

The Grand Oak stirs. "My acorn is still gone, so I pray to thee... Hast thou any news for me?" it asks imploringly.

"We sure do!" Full of pride my colleague holds up the acorn. "Is this the one you were looking for?"

"My joy soars to new heights indeed!" the tree answers with a happy gasp. "I am reunited with my seed!" It snaps off one of its branches. "As for thy reward, here it be. I hope its magic pleases thee. Keep this branch of mine with thee, and pass throughout the forest free." Warden and Elder tree swap items, and the latter resumes its old position. "I wish thee well, my mortal friend." It gives Al an amiable nod. "Thou brought my sadness to an end. May the sunlight find you, thy days be long, thy winters kind and thy roots be strong."

After a wave goodbye, Alistair wraps an arm around my shoulders. "I really like the Brecilian Forest! It's such a place of miracles and weird things." He seems to be pleased as punch.

Shale snorts in derision. "At least _someone_ likes it here."

~*|'-'|*~

With the branch of the Great Oak, the fog dissipated and left the way open. However, and there is always a however or a but involved, we were welcomed by a committee of werewolves. Swiftrunner again. I tried to get them to talk to us, but alas. This time we did get into a fight (nobody died), and we actually got to see this Witherfang. A white wolf, with branches growing out of it for some reason. A beautiful animal. It knocked me over, so here I am, lying on my back. The wolves have all fled.

"Are you all right?" Alistair, ever the gentleman, offers me his hand and helps me up. "Are you hurt?"

"Well, I think my butt might be bruised a little, but otherwise I'm fine." I pat the dust from me as well as I can.

My friend grins. "Well uh, I could take a look at it for you, if you like?" He eyes me hopefully, his cheeks red as roses. I swear, his blood spends more time in there than anywhere else.

"Ah, silly children," Wynne laughs. She sounds endeared. We're a pair of adorable kids, yes.

"Maybe later." His expression makes me blush. Does he really want to see my butt so badly? "Right now, we have stuff to do. Don't you agree?"

"Yes..." He nods wistfully. "I suppose we do."

And so we continue on. More werewolves greet us. Our arrival seems to greatly upset them.

"We are invaded!" one of them growls. "Intruders have deceived they way into the forest!"

"No, no!" I raise my arms. "We just..."

I'm thoroughly ignored. "Fall back to the ruins! Protect the Lady!" The creatures flee again.

"Who is this Lady?" Alistair muses. "Sounds important to them."

"Their leader, perhaps?" Wynne offers. "We should try to speak with this Lady, if they give us the opportunity."

"Or we could just smash them all!" Shale, of course. Who else?

I shrug. "Let's see if we can talk to them first, and if not, we'll have no choice but to smash them."


	132. The Brecilian Forest - The Arcane Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth learns something new.

### The Brecilian Forest - The Arcane Warrior

These ruins are old. So old, that the forest has begun growing into it. The place rather reminds me of the temple we found Andraste's ashes in. Wynne wondered aloud if the ruins are Tevinter or elven. I have no idea; architecture never truly interested me. Well, I like pretty buildings, but I don't know anything about them. Strangely enough, for a base of werewolves, the place is full of undead. Shale's been having a great day, smashing brittle bone to splinters. There is a door on the top floor that is impossible to open. Leliana showed me how to pick locks once, but I'm not very good at it. The best I can probably do is the flimsy lock on a diary. Our trusty golem attempted to break the door open, which didn't work either. She pounded at it so hard that bits of stone flew off her fists, but nothing worked. Tevinter or elven, these people knew how to make doors.

We've been on two floors, and not one werewolf. Lots of dead adventurers though. What we did encounter, was a dragon. The damned thing set my sleeve on fire; now I have a rather severe burn on my left forearm. Appropriately, it hurts like the blazes. What is it with dragons and sleeves? The last one did that too. Alistair came to my rescue and lopped its head off. I always have these little accidents, it's beginning to get annoying. But I'm sure it beats being stuck in Aeonar with Lily. A dab of cooling ointment, some bandages, and I'm good to go again. I can always lie on my bedroll and suffer with a lot of noise later. _Oh, the pain! Waaah! Help me! I'm dying! Woe is me!_ Heh, nah.

Hmmm, and what have we here? It looks like some kind of gem. With a red liquid in it. "Do any of you have any thoughts on what this might be?"

Shale shrugs. "It knows it should not ask me these questions. The crimson fluid inside reminds me of the bird I smashed as we left the village." A long, blissful sigh. "Ah yes, that feathered little fiend, soundly squished to a pulp under my foot. Wonderful..."

"This appears to be a phylactery of some kind," Wynne says sagely, after giving the golem a wary look and stepping away from her a bit. "The essence of a mage, kept magically preserved. If that were all it is, however, I would be surprised." True enough. I remember seeing Jowan's phylactery; it looked very different from this one. More like a tiny bottle, than a gem.

Alistair cocks his head to the side. "Is that... blood in there? Whose, I wonder? It _must_ be magical, I mean, it's is still liquid after all this time."

"Yes, I suppose." I reach out to touch the phylactery. Warm. "It's very..." Images pop up in my mind. Images of things I can't possibly know of. This isn't something that my own brain concocted. There is something in this thing. And it's scared.

_Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you._ No need to speak aloud; besides, the others might wonder if I've lost my mind. The frightened sensations cease, then become more like indecision. It doesn't want me to leave it alone. More images. It's been in here for so long. So long that it's lost its mind. No, not it. He. An elf. A mage, like myself. I can't see it to be true, but I simply know it is. Not clad in robes though, no. In armour. Peculiar. _Where are we exactly? Can you tell me what happened here?_

For a while, nothing comes. Wait, yes. A place of serenity, where people come to sleep and others pray to gods on their behalf. Some kind of temple, that doubles as a burial space? That does explain all the dead we encountered. I don't think this spirit remembers much of this. Suddenly... War. Death. Violence. That's a change from the serenity earlier. _Were you waging war with humans?_

Apparently not. This place was built by humans, and the war happened long after that. I'm not sure what else he's trying to say. A war with other humans? Something else that killed all those who lived here? Hmm. Well, never mind that. _So how did you get in this gem?_

More images of battle. Elves and humans are terrified; they run away from something. What that something is, I cannot see. All I get is a sense of great dread. This must have been something terrible indeed. The spirit shows me how he uses this gem, Life Gem, he calls it, to escape his body. Someone is going to come and help, he thinks. But so far, I'm the only one to speak with him. Poor thing. _Were you a mage?_

A confirmation. Not just any mage; mage and warrior at the same time. I'd never thought something like that was possible. Mages are physically quite weak, normally. A phrase swims into my thoughts. Arcane Warrior. _What's an Arcane Warrior?_

The images come swiftly, but not in great detail or number. An order of elven mages, who use magic as their strength and fight to protect others. Magic, instead of strength? Fascinating. And then, a promise. To teach me what he still remembers, so I can sort of be an Arcane Warrior myself. _I'd like that._ Then I will have to promise him something as well: to help him pass on. No more existence trapped inside a gem. _Of course. How?_

Another image. A stone altar, upon which I am to set this Life Gem. It will then explode, and he will cease to exist. Strong feelings of yearning; so strong, tears begin flowing from my eyes as if they have a life of their own. How terrible it must have been in here, all alone and always hoping for release. Oh dear, he doesn't remember where that altar is. I look around. My vision is blurry. How fortunate: a stone altar, exactly as I've been shown, is right over there. _I found it. Let me help you._

I walk over to the altar, gem in hand. Despair begins flowing through me, despair and hope. Am I sure I want to learn how to be an Arcane Warrior? _Fuck yeah_. Confusion. _I mean, yes, please_. Images flood into my brain. Meditation, learning how to channel my magic inward and be able to deal melee damage with that, instead of my non-existent physical strength. This way, I can wield swords, shields, other weapons, wear heavy armour. Once I'm advanced enough with the first stage, other abilities will follow. A plea for release. _Thank you for your memories. Peace be with you._ I lay the Life Gem upon the altar; just before it actually hits the stone surface, the spirit sends me a feeling of gratitude and joy. Then, it explodes. Quickly I shield my face with my hands. Ow.

"Aster?" Alistair gingerly places his hand on my shoulder. "Are you all right? You seemed to be in a bit of a trance."

I turn to face him. "There was something inside that gem. Someone. He'd gone crazy over the ages, and wished to be released. So I did." Wincing, I pull a shard from my hand. Blood gushes out.

"You're crying." Carefully he wipes away my tears. "Was it so bad?"

"Yes. I was shown some very strong emotions. He also taught me how I might channel my magic to use it in lieu of strength, and fight like a warrior." I look up at him. "Will you teach me how?"

Hazel eyes light up. "Sure! I have a spare sword and shield you could borrow, and..." With a happy grin he sweeps me up into a bear hug. "We're going to have so much fun!"

"No doubt we are." I smile at his enthusiasm. Even in a danger-filled ruin he can be so extremely cheerful. "Please put me down. I can almost see my house from up here." Once I'm back on my feet, I add: "We should continue on. I'm anxious to return to my baby."

"Of course, of course." As we walk, the Warden drapes an arm around my shoulders. "Let me give you a few pointers to get you started. See, if you want to knock someone down with your shield, the key is to really put your _back_ into it..."


	133. The Brecilian Forest - Doggy Paddling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The water's nice, I'm told.

### The Brecilian Forest - Doggy Paddling

"What, through there?" I point to the pool at my feet. The water is dark and foreboding. "I hope that's a joke."

"Yeah, I wish it were, but it's the only place we haven't checked yet." Making all sorts of clanging noises, my fellow Warden begins stripping off his armour until he is left in only the clothes he wears underneath. "I'll go check it out, you all wait here a moment." Unhesitatingly he dives in.

I whistle. "I would rather not go in there. Wynne, can you swim?" I pick up all the pieces of armour strewn around and place them in a spare bag. It won't keep them dry, but I need _some_ way to carry them.

"Of course. When I was still a child, I would go swimming all the time." She casts me a sidelong glance. "But you've never done it before, have you?"

"No." Heat rushes into my face. "I'm a little scared, because I have no idea how to swim."

Shale scoffs. "Pathetic."

"Have you ever swum, you disrespecting heap of stone?" I place my hands on my hips and glare at her. It's that her control rod is broken, or I would've had her act as a bird bath for a while.

"No." The golem has the audacity to laugh. "But unlike it, I will not drown."

Just as I'm getting ready to chew her out, Alistair emerges. "It leads to a floor above, an area we haven't been to yet." With a wide grin he beckons me. "Come in, the water is great."

"I uh, I can't swim." I blush some more.

"Oh, that shouldn't be a problem. Just hold on to me, and I'll get you there." He shows me a confident thumbs up.

"Very well." I sling the bag with his armour over my shoulder. "Wynne, would you be able to take Shale with you?"

The old lady nods. "Yes, I think so."

I dip my hand into the water; it's lukewarm. A temperature so perfect, it's like I'm not in water at all. Carefully I lower myself in. Why a waterway? Damned werewolves. Now I'm going to be sopping in my boots for hours. "Are you sure this is no problem?" I move behind the Warden and loop my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist.

For a brief moment his body tenses. Breasts against his back, I understand. "No, we'll be fine. I'll count to three; take a deep breath, hold it in and we'll go down. Whatever you do, stay calm. Don't freak out, nothing will happen to you. Okay?"

"Okay."

He nods. "Good. One... Two..."

Just before three, I suck my lungs full of air and hold it in. We take the plunge. Boy, I sure hope this passage will be short. Holding my breath isn't something I do often. I see... not much. Quite dark in here, although sometimes I can make out human-like shapes. More dead adventurers, or silly undead who wandered in here by accident. Thankfully, we're out of the water in a flash and I did not even once feel the urge to panic. A gulp of fresh air is very welcome.

"Are you all right?" After getting out of the pool, Alistair helps me out as well. "You didn't inhale any water or anything?"

"Thank the Maker, no." I shake myself like I've seen Stubbs do several times. I can see why he does it; it is super effective. "I'm fine. You?"

"Gah! Stop splattering me!" he sputters. "I'm wet enough already."

I hand him the bag with his armour. "Well, excuuuse me, princess." Meanwhile I can feast my eyes on his so very aesthetically pleasing form, almost transparent shirt clinging to his broad chest, every line of his muscles showing. Glorious.

"That's _ser_ princess to you." With a mock glare in my direction, Alistair starts putting his armour back on. So much for my sight for sore eyes.

Moments later Wynne comes up, gasping loudly. "Oh my! It has been a while since I've been for a swim." She gratefully accepts my hands to pull her out. "This is so inconvenient, don't you think? Perhaps we should start a fire and dry first."

"That would be a great idea, but we don't really have the time, I'm afraid." I show her an apologetic smile. "Dalish dying, thirsty babies waiting for their mothers, you know what I mean."

"Of course. We should not keep little Collin waiting for so long." Sighing wistfully, she wrings out her little ponytail. "Troublesome creatures," she mutters under her breath.

"This swimming business looks utterly ridiculous. The elderly mage doing the doggy paddle," Shale chuckles unexpectedly. "Thankfully I could just walk on the bottom." She easily hoists herself up onto the dry floor. "Now squishing something soft and watching it fountain blood, that I will never get enough of."

Right on cue, a long-drawn howl echoes through the stone halls nearby.

"Well then, I think our furry friends have heard you."


	134. The Brecilian Forest - The Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witherfang cleans up nicely.

### The Brecilian Forest - The Lady

More injuries. This time it was me who nearly died. A werewolf suddenly popped up behind me and almost tore off my shoulder. I exaggerate, of course, but if it hadn't been for the mighty Rock Armour, my shoulder would have been gone. The claw marks were ridiculously deep, and after all our enemies were killed, Wynne had to pick out bits of fabric from the gashes with a pair of tweezers. I swear, this job is really pushing my pain threshold to its limits. It hurt so much I started crying. Which earned me lots of hugs from Alistair, so I suppose it's not all bad. Stupid Shale nearly laughed herself into a seizure. Feh. If she weren't so useful, I'd have kicked her to the curb ages ago.

Ugh, I ought to pledge my allegiance to Wynne for all the times she's saved my sorry behind and become her slave for life, or something. But since we Fereldans don't believe in slavery, I suppose a little gift will have to do. A little, _expensive_ gift. Hmm, new robes? Yes, I think that might be... I crash into something hard and fuzzy, landing on my ass. This seems familiar. Looking up, I see another one of those ginormous werewolves. Oh no. It's not alone either.

"You know, you really need to pay more attention." Alistair abruptly yanks me up. By the arm that is attached to the shoulder I nearly lost. "Oh Maker, I'm so sorry!" he gasps as I cry out in pain.

"Well, _you_ need to pay more attention too." I check my wound, and lo! It's begun bleeding again. Oh, that is just marvellous. Never mind. It will stop again eventually.

All the wolves, save one, are snarling dangerously. "Stop! Be at ease, brothers and sisters," the composed one speaks. Instantly they calm down. Talk about leadership. "We do not wish any more of our people hurt, outsiders. Are you willing to parley?" Its gaze shifts back and forth between Alistair and me.

"Yes, yes, go ahead. But don't mind if I bring out some poultice to put on my shoulder, yeah?" After a few moments of rummaging through my pack, I find a little jar of healing goodness and a clean cloth. I pull down my sleeve (it's come off from the robes at the shoulder). "Well? Start talking."

"Not with me." The werewolf emphatically shakes its head. "I have been sent to you on behalf of the Lady. She believes you may not be aware of all you should be. She means you no harm, provided that your willingness to parley in peace is an honest one."

Having wiped away some blood with the cloth, I rub on a generous amount of ointment. "You do the talking, Your Highness. I'm a little busy here." Ointment, bandages. I could be my own nurse.

"Don't call me that!" he protests, a sour expression on his face. "Fine. Why didn't you speak with us earlier, if you were willing to?" Oh, I can answer that one: because that would have been too damned easy.

"Swiftrunner did not think it would matter. The Lady disagrees, and since you have forced your way this far, we must acquiesce to her wishes." Impatiently it taps its clawed foot on the floor.

Alistair still doesn't seem convinced. "And how are we supposed to know we're not about to walk into an ambush?"

"What would be the point?" The werewolf shrugs. "You have already proven your strength, and we have no wish to anger you further."

"You are no longer mindless indeed," I butt in. Must... fight the urge to pat it on the head like it's a good boy. "Let's go talk to your Lady then. We promise we'll behave, don't we?" Everyone concurs, even Shale.

"Follow me," our guide growls. "But I warn you, if you break your promise and harm her, I will come back from the Fade itself to see you pay." It motions us to follow before it turns its back on us.

I keep any return-threats to myself; someone who is so devoted can only be admired. On the way, a gathering of werewolves stands along the sidelines. So many of them. They snarl menacingly at the four of us as we follow the negotiator. Of course I'm highly intimidated, but I hold my head high and my back straight. Never show fear or anxiety. Even if my boots make a wet sopping noise with every step I take. Damned waterway.

Finally we arrive in a large chamber and I am guided before a creature of indescribable beauty. Not so indescribable that I can't try though. The Lady has the shape of a well-formed humanoid female, with dull silver skin and smooth, ebony hair that covers half of her breasts. She wears no clothing, but is covered by tree-like growths in strategic places. Her hands end in long, pointy branches instead of fingers; her eyes are an obsidian black. Wow. I'm not so bedazzled that I cannot see the similarities between this creature and Witherfang, however. She inclines her head. "I bid you welcome, mortal. I am the Lady of the Forest," she greets us in a pleasant, echoing voice.

"Astoreth, Alistair, Wynne and Shale." I point to each of us in turn. "What is it you'd like to talk about?"

"Zathrian has not told you that he created the curse that these creatures suffer, the same curse that Zathrian's own people now suffer." A tone of sadness has crept into her words.

Swiftrunner, who is standing right next to his Lady, growls and behaves quite nervously. He instantly calms down when his mistress strokes his arm. "The humans... tortured the boy, killed him. The girl they raped and left for dead. The Dalish found her, but later she learned that she was... with child. She killed herself," he explains. Zathrian's children. Such horrible fates.

"Is that why Zathrian cursed the culprits?" The ones who did the deed deserved their end, but surely not all the werewolves we encountered were they.

Swiftrunner nods. "Zathrian came to this ruin and summoned a terrible spirit, binding it to the body of a great wolf. So Witherfang came to be."

The Lady of the Forest and I spend the next few minutes going back and forth about the situation. She and her furry friends like the curse to end, as would the elves, as would we all, so I agree to talk to Zathrian. A curse that keeps on going for centuries and is contagious to those who have nothing to do with the original offense is ridiculous. I explain that Zathrian only wants Witherfang's heart to cure his own people, after which she pretty much admits to being Witherfang herself by stating that she can either summon him, or make sure he is never found at all. I can put two and two together, you know. It makes four.

So now she has opened a door for us, a door that turns out to be the one we had such trouble opening. Hooray for shortcuts. Shale naturally complains that we should just kill them, but she can get bent for all I care. The more we can solve without bloodshed, the better. Sometimes pounding things isn't the way to go, no matter how much fun getting pounded is. Granted I'm thinking of a different kind of pounding. But wait, Zathrian is already in the ruins, right in front of us. Hooray for not having to walk all the way back and then here again.

"Ah, and here you are already," the keeper speaks.

"What a lucky coincidence. We were just about to get you." Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

He raises an eyebrow. "Get me, why? The spirit has convinced you to act on her behalf, then?"

"Yes. She won't summon Witherfang, unless you break the curse. I realize that Witherfang and she are one and the same, though." I shrug. "Look, it won't hurt if you just go and talk to them. I understand that the humans have caused you great pain, but the werewolves have regained their minds. You'll see."

The bald elf vehemently shakes his head. "No, they are still savage beasts. All they will want is revenge, or a release I will not grant them. Let us take the heart and end it."

"We are not just going to march in there and start killing things. I propose that you speak with them first." Arms folded before my chest, I stare the man down until his hard gaze softens.

"And what if it is revenge they want, and not talk? Will you safeguard me from harm?"

I nod. "Naturally. Unless you attack first."

"I fail to see the purpose behind this," he sighs. "But very well. It has been many centuries now. Let us see what the spirit has to say."


	135. The Brecilian Forest - Showing Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zathrian finally agrees to end the curse. What a spoiler.

### The Brecilian Forest - Showing Mercy

I am beginning to suspect this cannot be resolved peacefully. Zathrian refuses to end the curse, Swiftrunner just yells about how the keeper should be killed, and the Lady pleads and soothes. As it turns out, Zathrian used blood magic to maintain the curse and his long life. Avernus could have learned from him, I think. Centuries old, but still such a youthful look to him. I can only hope to be this free of wrinkles when I'm centuries old. Oh wait, thirty years left. Awww...

"We must kill them all!" Swiftrunner suddenly bellows. Wait, what? _All_? We did nothing!

" _You see_?" In an outrage, Zathrian turns to me. "They turn on you just as easily. Do what you have come here for, Warden, or get out of my way!"

"No. I wouldn't have blamed you if you had murdered those who have the blood of your son and daughter on their hands, but this curse has gone way too far out of hand." I point my staff at him. "You will end it now, even if I have to force you myself!"

Alistair nods gravely and draws his sword. "We're standing for what's right here, no matter what."

"Then you die with them!" Zathrian hisses angrily. " _All of you will suffer as you deserve_!"

And there is the fighting. Humbug. Oh yay, a blizzard. Why not a firestorm? That way I could have dried properly. Or died instantly. Time for a Glyph of Neutralization, bitch! ...And he just keeps on casting like it's not even there. Oh, for crying out loud.

~*|'-'|*~

Fully spent, Zathrian sinks onto his knees. "No, no more," he wheezes. "I... I cannot defeat you." He looks pale and haggard, every drop of mana gone after all the powerful spells he cast. Me, I'm as fit as a fiddle. You know, apart from the numerous injuries. Trees came to life, demons were summoned, werewolves went berserk; it wasn't pretty.

"Finish it! Kill him now!" Swiftrunner screams, claws bared and ready to pounce.

"No, Swiftrunner!" The Lady lays a soothing hand on his shoulder and pets him. "We will not kill him. If there is no mercy in our hearts, how may we expect there to be any in his?"

Shale sighs deeply. "Oh, somebody please kill _somebody_."

"I cannot do as you ask, spirit." The keeper's breathing has returned to normal, the intense hatred drained from his features. "I am too old to show mercy. All I can see are the faces of my children, my people." He sighs in dejection, deep emotion in his voice. "I... I cannot do it."

I kneel beside Zathrian and look him in the eye. "Think of your clan. They too are dying of this curse."

"Perhaps... I have lived too long," he admits reluctantly. "This hatred in me is like an ancient, gnarled root. It has consumed my soul." With obvious effort, he gets to his feet with a bit of help from me and faces the Lady of the Forest. "What of you, spirit?" he addresses her. "You are bound to the curse as I am. Do you not fear your end?"

She shakes her head. "You are my maker, Zathrian. You gave me form and consciousness where none existed. I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life." Her lips curve into a tired smile. "Yet of all things I desire nothing more than an end. Please, maker..." She clasps her hands together in an earnest plea, and the werewolves gather around the two. "We beg you, show mercy."

"You shame me, spirit." The elf regards her wearily. "I am an old man, alive long past his time."

The spirit gasps. "Then you will do it? You will end the curse?" There is barely contained joy in her voice.

"Yes, I think it is time." Unexpectedly, a genuine smile breaks through the man's otherwise serious features. "Let us... Let us put an end to it all." It feels as if he is at peace, as if he perhaps has found some closure.

The werewolves bow their heads in gratitude, one clawed hand pressed against their hearts. After what seems like a final gathering of courage, Zathrian simply pounds his staff on the floor one single time. Promptly he drops to the floor, dead. A white light envelops all, and the Lady begins... blooming, I suppose you could call it. Pretty little flowers appear all over her, while the werewolves pay their respects one last time, before the white light becomes searing. I have to cover my eyes.

Soon I feel a gentle tug at my arm. Upon lowering my hands, I see a group of people. Zathrian's sacrifice has worked for them, which means that the elves must be getting better too.

"It's over," the man who heads the group says. "She's... gone, and we're human again. I can scarcely believe it." With evident disbelief, he studies his hands. They are no longer huge, furry and equipped with a sharp claw at the end.

"So... now what?" I study the men and women before me, and see they are all happy to be human again, if a bit wary. After such a long time spent as animals, surely this could be a dream.

The first speaker shrugs. "We'll leave the forest, I suppose. Find other humans, see what's out there for us. It should be quite interesting, don't you think?" he chuckles happily. "Thank you, we'll never forget you." And so the brand new humans leave the ruins, cheerfully chatting amongst each other or looking at their new bodies in a daze. Oddly enough, there is no trace of Zathrian's body.

"Whew." Alistair lets out a long breath and pats my mostly uninjured shoulder. "Another job well done, huh?"

"I guess so."

Wynne laughs. "No need to be so modest, young lady. You have quite the way with words."

"Indeed. The conflict was resolved most satisfactorily." Shale nods enthusiastically.

"Wait, what? Even _you_ approve?" Consider my mind boggled.

"Why, of course." The golem tilts her head in confusion. "I got to crush a few bits and pieces, the annoying little elf who tried to trick us has gone up in smoke and we may now travel through the forest in peace. What's not to like?"

I give her a thumbs up. "And here I thought you were only interested in fighting and killing." Resolutely I make my way to the door. "Let's get out of here. I really need some sleep, and some happy baby time."


	136. The Brecilian Forest - In Uthenera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana gives a concert.

### The Brecilian Forest - In Uthenera

Finally. Back in our good old camp, belly full of some good hearty stew. I gave the scarf to the werewolf's husband (poor man was sad but relieved), the hunter whom we found in the woods insisted on thanking us personally and the new keeper Lanaya promised to honour the treaty with the Grey Wardens. The last one is in the pocket.

As soon as I set foot in the Dalish camp, I heard a happy bark and was bowled over by Stubbs, who almost licked my face right off. I think he missed me. Morrigan and Collin followed him closely, but she wasn't quick enough to prevent me from getting my wet, smelly welcome. Oghren we found passed out under a tree, drunk out of his mind, and Zevran just came stumbling out of a tent with his hair all messed up and an infinitely satisfied look on his face. I'm not even going to ask. To my great surprise, Sten was making a sketch of one of the landships, using ink the Dalish tattoo their faces with. Right next to him was Leliana; she was writing a poem to accompany the sketch. How sweet.

Currently I'm sitting by our roaring fire with Collin in my lap. "I've missed you, my precious." I tickle his tummy, making him giggle. "Have you missed me too? Hmm, have you?" He responds very well to all the kisses I'm covering him with. With happy cooing and laughter, kicking his little legs. Ah, there is nobody I could love more than my own son.

Leliana sits herself beside me. "I was just thinking of what happened to the elves, and I am... reminded of a song sung to me, many years ago," she announces in a pensive voice. "It was when my mother died, and this wise elven woman comforted me and told me that we shouldn't fear death, or hate it. Death is just another beginning. One day we must all shed our earthly bodies to allow our spirits to fly free."

"Hmm. That's a comforting thought."

The bard nods. "It's a beautiful sentiment, I think. One that brings peace and hope to the grieving." With a sad smile on her face, she strikes up a song in that wonderful, lilting voice. I wish I understood the words. Even without musical accompaniment, the song is... almost heartrendingly beautiful. Actually, somehow it feels like there is an orchestra here. I've never heard her sing before, come to think of it. A voice like that could soothe any troubled heart. Heh. I'd been listening so intently, I never even noticed how everyone else has gathered around the fire to listen. 

I pat Leliana on the knee. "That was exquisite. What does it all mean?"

"Elder, your time is come. Now I am filled with sorrow. Weary eyes need resting. Heart has become grey and slow. In waking sleep is freedom. We sing, rejoice. We tell the tales. We laugh and cry. We love one more day," she translates. "It's a traditional elven song. _In Uthenera_ , they call it."

"You should really sing more often." Alistair sounds like he is heavily impressed. "I really liked that. I think we all did." Everyone nods, except for Collin; he is reverently silent. Stubbs gives a quiet little woof.

Chuckling awkwardly, the minstrel's cheeks turn pink in a visible blush. "Oh, thank you."

"It really was wonderful. Well, this has been a very long day, so I'm off." I get up and head in the direction of my tent. "Goodnight, everyone," I call over my shoulder. In return I am wished the same.

I swear, my bedroll has never looked this inviting before. But first things first: feed the baby if he wants it, then tuck him in. "Are you hungry, my darling?"

Collin grins and tugs at my robes. "Nyah!"

"Oh, your first word!" I gasp. "No, wait, nyah isn't a word. Never mind."

As soon as my chest is bared, the little one begins feeding greedily. I'm a little sad that my robes must soon be thrown away; no seamstress in the world could save this torn, ragged tatter of a garment. But what in the name of Andraste am I supposed to wear then? I pull my robes down all the way to my hips and inspect my belly. Huh. It seems to be less pudding-like than it was before. That is one good thing about the running around we do: you don't really get the chance to get fat. Even after eating ridiculous amounts, I don't have that much extra weight left over from my pregnancy.


	137. The Brecilian Forest - Alistair's Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one has nothing to do with any horrible relatives.

### The Brecilian Forest - Alistair's Request

Footsteps sound just outside my tent. "Aster? Can I speak with you?"

"Sure, come in." Alistair seems to want to talk to me often lately. I like that. Abruptly the baby pushes my breast away and yawns. "Done, are we?" I manage to cover myself just in time for my fellow Warden's arrival. "Hi, Al. What can I do for you?" Collin briefly studies me from his pillow before his eyes flutter shut. Softly I press a kiss to his forehead, covering him with his blanket. Sweet dreams, my angel.

"There is this one thing that keeps bothering me." The young man has already draped himself over my bedroll; between him and Collin's 'bed' there is hardly any place for me to sit. "Something very personal. I'd have spoken to Jowan about it, but he's not here anymore and I trust you."

"I'm honoured. What's bothering you?" What bothers me, is that I don't seem to miss Jowan. I think of him plenty, but there is no pain involved. Maybe I'm distracted, I don't know.

For a few moments Alistair just stares at me, chewing his lip. "Do you think I will ever lose my virginity?"

That's a _very_ personal issue indeed. "Good-looking lad like you? Sure. Why are you wondering about that now?"

"Well..." He sighs. "It occurred to me that we could die at any moment. If you and Shale hadn't saved us in the forest, that camp could have killed us all. I've never even been _kissed_ , Aster." There is an obvious tone of despair in his voice.

"Never been kissed? Never? Never ever, ever?" I cast him a curious look.

A slight smile breaks through. "No, never ever, ever, ever."

"I see." I shrug. "You know, I wouldn't worry too much about it. Such things happen when they happen. And if they don't, you could ask someone." Grinning, I add: "Maybe Morrigan would be willing." And pigs will fly.

"Eww..." Alistair makes a dirty face. "I'd sooner kiss a viper than I'd kiss _her_." Instantly his face becomes red all the way down his neck. "How... how about you?"

I laugh. "Oh, I think I'd pick Morrigan over a viper, myself." Hmm, I think I would enjoy kissing Morrigan. Her voluptuous lips on mine, crimson paint getting smeared all over my mouth. Maybe some groping as well. Heh. Oh my. "What?" I find Alistair staring at me with an unreadable look in his eyes. "Sorry, I got a little distracted."

"I didn't mean if _you_ would kiss Morrigan. Would you..." He swallows thickly. "Would you consider doing that for me? Giving me my first kiss?"

My mouth falls open unflatteringly, my heart rate picks up. "I... what? You have no idea what you're asking of me." A kiss like that is so intimate. I fear it would change things between us, and I don't really want that.

"What do you mean?" Alistair scrambles to his knees, bumping his head against the narrow wooden beam that supports the roof. "Ow! The ceiling is so much lower in here."

"I'm small, so I need a smaller tent. Sorry." I press my lips to the spot on his head he was rubbing. "Look, I don't mind kissing you; you know how I think you're hot. But I've no idea what the consequences might be." When I kissed Cullen, wasn't love the consequence? Eventually Jowan and I became lovers. Daveth, well, I don't know. Something might have happened if he hadn't died. Daniela was the only one who didn't really pack a punch. Guess I don't like girls _that_ much.

Eyeing the ceiling warily, Alistair sits down, wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me onto his lap. A rather precarious position. "Please?" There is a longing look in his pretty eyes, the index finger of his right hand insistently running along my lower lip. "Damn the consequences. This beautiful male specimen requires your attention." Ah, he remembers my slip-up in the Denerim inn quite well, I see.

My heart begins pounding even faster, and I can feel I'm about to leave a puddle right on the boy's lap. "Very well. Close your eyes." An involuntary giggle escapes me when he puckers up his lips in a really funny way. "No, don't do that. Just relax." I cup his handsome face in my hands and approach slowly. Can I still back out of this? No, that would hardly be fair. And Maker knows I want it. Badly. A low whimper emanates from deep within his throat as I brush my lips against his. Mmm, so soft. Most unexpectedly, his hand grabs me by the back of the head and he firmly kisses me.

His kiss feels clumsy and awkward, but nice. Our lips stay stuck to each other for what seems like forever, and Alistair doesn't make a move to take things a step further. I run my fingers through his hair, tousling it. Although I do enjoy just locking lips like this, this chaste kind of kiss isn't what I aim to give him. I flick my tongue against his lips and he instinctively parts them, allowing me to slip into his mouth. A half-surprised, half-excited moan escapes his throat as I caress his tongue with my own. One of his hands is resting on my behind, giving it an inquisitive squeeze from time to time, the other high on my back. Hey, that wasn't part of the deal. Unless he's checking my butt for bruises. The heat coming off his body is scorching. Finally we manage to untangle ourselves from one another.

"Wow, that was amazing!" Alistair breathes. "I have a serious hard-on." His frame stiffens. "Did I just say that out loud?"

I give him a friendly pat on the head. "What, that you have a serious hard-on? No, don't be silly!" He doesn't have to say it for me to know it. I can distinctly feel it poking into me. Don't touch it, Astoreth. No matter how loudly it's calling your name, don't touch his one-eyed trouser snake. When all is said and done though, I don't feel any different. I'm not suddenly madly in love with him. Whew.

A long sigh of relief. "Oh, thank the... Wait..."

"Don't sweat it, please. It's only natural." My softly stroking his cheek causes the distress in his eyes to dissipate. "Now, was that was you wanted? A proper first kiss?"

"Yes!" He nods enthusiastically. "I've never felt anything like it."

"I'm glad I could please you. I enjoyed it too." Briefly I hug him. "Do you mind if I go to sleep now? I'm very, very tired. Sorry we couldn't start those swordplay lessons just yet; I still need to heal a bit."

My handsome companion smiles brightly. "No, that's fine. I will begin teaching you when you're ready. Goodnight, Aster." A soft kiss dangerously close to my mouth. "I'm just going to attack my, I mean, I'm probably going to take a bath or something. A cold one."

Attacking his one-eyed, purple-headed warrior, aye? Hot. Maybe I'll not go to sleep right away. Wait, yes, I will. Pleasuring myself with a baby lying right next to me simply won't do. Then again, will I be able to sleep so hot and bothered? Hmm. Well, we'll see. I clamber off his lap and resist the urge to make a remark about joining him. "Goodnight, my friend. I'll see you in the morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the adventures of the Wardens and co. in the Brecilian Forest. Tune in at a later time for more.


	138. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - After-Practise Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair shows Astoreth some moves.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - After-Practise Shower

A loud clang echoes all over the otherwise silent camp when I parry Alistair's blade with mine. After he'd explained the basics of swordplay to me ("Stick them with the pointy end, make sure any pointy ends on the other's weapon don't get into you."), we began sparring. Stubbs was watching us with great interest for a long time, until he fell asleep by the fire. Last time I glanced over there, the dog was lying on his back, sometimes kicking his legs as if running. Doggy dreams. Alistair and I have been at it for over half an hour, I think, and he's not managed to get in a single hit.

"Wow, you're a natural!" he exclaims adoringly, making a swipe that could take off my head.

I manage to block it with my shield. Finally Arl Eamon's unwanted gift gets to see some use. "No, I don't think so. That Arcane Warrior probably did more than just tell me how to channel my magic into physical strength."

"You mean that he gave you a warrior's talent, or something? Look at you!" With a wide grin on his face, he deals another unsuccessful hit, and takes a defensive position. "Perfect posture, perfect form... It's amazing."

"Well, I am learning from one of the best, aren't I?" I wink and simultaneously jab at his unprotected side. Thankfully, he parries it at the very last moment. "When is this over? I'm getting a little tired, and we don't seem to be making a whole lot of progress."

Alistair arches a stern eyebrow. "Do you think the darkspawn are going to let you take a break when you complain about how tired you are?" He switches to offensive and makes a wide arc in the direction of my stomach, which I easily sidestep. "Do you think the archdemon is going to fetch you a cool, refreshing drink?" Swipe, clang. "Do you think the assassins Loghain keeps sending after us give a crap about your progress?"

"Fine then!" I block his sword with mine and hit my opponent square in the chest with my shield. Just as he advised, I really put my back into it. And what do you know, it works. With a surprised yelp, Alistair topples over and lands on his back. Promptly I place my foot on his chest, pointing the tip of the sword against his throat. "For your information, my friend, I'm still a mage and could have easily ended this fight by lighting your hair on fire. Now, surrender."

Raising his hands, he laughs happily. "I surrender." When I've helped him back on his feet, he says in an ominous voice: "A mage who knows her way around a sword. Be afraid, enemies, be very afraid."

"Thank you for the lesson." Just as I'm standing on my toes and making the boy smile by pressing my lips to his cheek, Zevran walks by. He's humming cheerfully, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His bronzed skin looks damp in the light of the campfire, his hair is completely down and dripping wet. None of that is as interesting as the markings on his back though. I'd love to be that beautifully decorated. Would there be a shop in Denerim where they do that? The Dalish have their people for it, but I don't think they would do it for me. I'm not one of them, after all. I'm a dirty human! I trace the lines on his back with my eyes until the assassin has disappeared into his tent.

"Whatever do you see in him?" Alistair mutters. There is an obvious tone of jealousy to his voice.

I shrug. "Not much. I just really like his tattoos." Aw, how cute... He's afraid I'm into Zevran.

"Oh yes, I asked him about those." With a sour expression, he adds: "He immediately saw fit to let me know he has them in more places than just his back."

"He does tend to hit on people at every turn, doesn't he?" I laughingly shake my head. Ever so persistent, that one. "I wonder if it hurts. Having ink applied under the skin with needles _sounds_ painful, but what do I know?"

My friend winces. "Apparently it does. Why, do you want one? He says he learned how it's done back home."

"That's interesting, but whatever, we don't really have the time for such things." Although I wish we did. I like being pretty. "So uh, would you like to spar again, or something?"

"No, sorry." He shakes his head. "I really need to take a bath. You're welcome to join me, of course, but I know how you think it's inappropriate." Blushing remarkably less than he used to, Alistair utters a saucy chuckle. Ever since I gave him that kiss, he's been far bolder than in the past.

Two can play that game, my friend. "Inappropriate? You and me, both butt-naked? Don't be silly. I'll meet you there then."

"Damn, bluff called." Instantly his cheeks have turned tomato red. "Why do you always have to see right through me?"

"Maybe _I'm_ not bluffing," I reply, putting a sultry tone into my voice. "Perhaps I like the idea of running my soapy hands all over your..." I manage to swallow just in time, so I can avoid drooling all over my chin. The mental images I'm getting are just way too sexy. "Never mind, forget I said anything. Will you just call me when you're done? I'll go check on Collin." My little angel has been sleeping for hours now, comfortably cradled in his potato-crate bed. He's never really fussy or anything. I think I really lucked out with a child like this.

Alistair has a surprised look on his face. "My what? I bet..." He awkwardly clears his throat and averts his eyes. "I bet there's a great deal of things that you could teach me." Still a little shy, I see. It's so cute I can hardly resist giving his cheeks a good pinch.

"Why yes, I could teach you how to make healing poultices, or lyrium potions. Or how to rock a baby to sleep." I know what he means, of course. And no matter how much I'd like to teach him all I know about pleasing a woman (namely me, since I don't really know what other women like), surely this is a bad idea. His first time should be with someone special; not with some horny mage. Not that he's not special to me, just... You know. Bad idea.

"I've always wanted to know how to prepare poultices!" he chirps, barely able to disguise the disappointment in his voice. "The grinding of herbs, steeping in animal fat... Very exciting. I'll warn you when I'm done." With that, he claps me on the shoulder unnecessarily hard and walks away. That really smarts! He really is too strong to mess with; without being properly armoured anyway. I'm going to make a mental note never to roughhouse with Alistair. Hmm. I hope he's not too disappointed about me not taking the bait. Ah, well. It's for his own good, really.

I duck into my tent and immediately dive into the potato-crate. Why hello, my precious little pumpkin. Still sleeping soundly, I see. In his sleep he makes a little noise as I run my fingers through his hair. Yep, it's really beginning to grow now. I imagine the boy will look just like his father when he's all grown up. Except that he'll have my big nose. I don't know if that's a good thing.

Hmmm... The time has come for me to keep my promise to Morrigan. To kill her mother. Considering the legends about Flemeth, I doubt it will be easy. Maybe I can weasel my way out of this? We'll see.

"Morrigan?" I whisper at the entrance of her tent. "Are you still up?"

A few rustling noises, a light being lit, and her sleepy face peers out. "Hmm? What do you wish of me?"

"I'm sorry I awoke you, but I need to ask you something. May I come in?"

"Of course." With a subdued yawn, she moves the flap aside and allows me to enter. "Full of questions, are you? Even at this unholy hour?"

I kneel beside her bedroll, in which Morrigan is still lying. "Well, it's very important. Do you really want your mother dead?"

"I can see why you might ask this," she replies thoughtfully, "despite knowing the fate that she has in store for me." As she sits up, the blanket sliding off her reveals that she's topless. Gulp. "The truth is that no, under normal circumstances, of course I would not turn against my mother so. For all that she is not the picture of maternal love, I mean her no ill will."

"So uh..." I manage not to stare at her breasts, somehow. Awfully dry throat, though. "It's entirely because she wants to possess you?" As I kind of do right now. Maker's breath, what is _wrong_ with me?

Morrigan nods. "Indeed. Flemeth taught me long ago, that once you know your enemy, you must strike quickly and without mercy. Were our positions reversed, she would no doubt do exactly the same." Her slightly bleary eyes regard me expectantly.

Ah... Too bad. I really can't wriggle out of this. Another near-death experience, coming right up. "Yes, I have to agree with you. It's necessary."

"Good." A relieved breath passes from between her lips. She looks oddly colourless without all that make up on her face. "Then please, end this waiting and deal with her as soon as you can. This is driving me nearly mad."

"Oh, I'm sorry." I pat her delightfully silky shoulder. "I had no idea this was troubling you so. Rest assured: tomorrow, we're off to Ostagar, and then I'll kill Flemeth for you."

Her lips appear to force themselves into a sour smile. "I fear that I may offer you no reward."

"I'm doing you a friendly turn; you're not hiring me to be your mercenary." I press a sisterly kiss to her cheek. "Keeping you around is all the reward I need. Goodnight."

Apparently Morrigan is so surprised that she doesn't even make a reply when I leave her tent to return to my own. And here I thought I was the unadjusted one. Like I said before, growing up in the Wilds can't be all it's cracked up to be. Of course there is freedom and adventure, but there aren't many other people. People skills are important. Or so they say.

Oh man, only now do I feel how tired I've become from that sudden burst of exercise. Before this whole Grey Warden thing, I would just sit around and read. Or sit around and stuff my face with chocolate. I think I'll just close my eyes a bit until Alistair comes along. Just for a few moments.

~*|'-'|*~

Hm? Oh, I must've fallen asleep. No darkspawn dream this time, but I vaguely remember being in bed with someone. I've no idea who, or what we were doing. I could venture a guess regarding that last part though. Content snoring sounds from just around my chest level, whispers in my mind. And there we have prince charming, curled up to me with a big old smile on his face. So much for waking me for that bath, aye? Just look at how sweet and innocent he looks. He's going to make some lucky girl very, very happy. I cradle him closer to my chest and close my eyes. That bath will have to wait until tomorrow morning.


	139. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - A Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zevran really, really wants to come along.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - A Curse

"So are you ready for this?" Sword and shield in hand, I expectantly look up at Alistair. Going back to the place that cost him so much might be a tad emotional. And I'm here to put my newfound knowledge of hand-to-hand combat in practice.

"Yes." He bares his teeth in a fierce grin. "Those fuckers are going to pay for what they've done."

" _Alistair_!" Wynne exclaims in shock. "Watch your language!"

He shrugs. "I'm a grown man, Wynne. We're allowed, or maybe even expected, to swear from time to time."

"Fuck yeah! Well said, boy!" Oghren obviously approves of this message.

But what of the effect on Collin? Thankfully, I see that Morrigan is covering his ears with her hands; the baby looks hopelessly puzzled. "Thank you, Morrigan. Very thoughtful of you."

"At your service, my friend. Little Collin is far too young to be exposed to such words." The witch flings a mean glare at both Alistair and Oghren, who cower before her. Wynne meanwhile, glares at me. I know: monkey see, monkey do. Although I doubt that he's never heard those words before. Wasn't he in the company of a bunch of burly men, before fate brought us all together? I bet they weren't minding their words around him either. Or were they? Let's see how that would go:

_One Grey Warden is polishing his sword and accidentally cuts himself: "Well, fuuu..."_

_Another quickly covers the speaker's mouth, whispering: "Ixnay on the uck-fay... The newbie is listening. I hear he just came from a convent! It's our job to preserve his innocence!"_

_"Good golly, you're right!" the first exclaims. "I meant to say, oh_ fudge _! Just fudge."_

_Alistair: "Mmm, fudge... I wonder what's for dessert tonight?"_

Bwaha. "So, who will our group consist of this time?" Again I look at Alistair.

"As usually it's you, me and Wynne, which leaves room for one more person." Briefly he looks around our little group. "Leliana?"

Zevran raises his hand to protest. "Why is it I haven't been for an adventure with you all for such a long time?" he asks with a conspicuous pout.

An exasperated grunt comes out of Sten. "I am finally reunited with my Asala, but am given no opportunities to hear her deadly song. Yet you hear no complaints out of me." If that's a hint, he truly has to be less subtle about it.

"Well said, Sten. Let me answer that question for you, oh mighty Crow: you may be an expert with daggers and the like, but we need another for long range. Apart from that, you're almost as bad as I am at picking locks," I reply. It's blunt, but true.

"I am not!" he huffs. "Only because I am not as good at it as Leliana... Humph." Grumbling under his breath, the assassin ostentatiously turns his back towards us. I'd call him a baby, but then I would be insulting my child. Collin is an actual baby and yet he behaves more mature than this one.

Alistair approaches and gingerly pats Zevran on the head. "If it means that much to you, you can come with us and Leliana will stay here."

"Really?" Adoringly the elf looks up at him, hope in his eyes.

"No." My colleague laughs cruelly. "I was only messing with you."

"Bah!" Zev angrily shakes his fist at his tormentor. "A curse upon your house!"

Al turns to me. "Asteeer! Zevran is being mean to me. He just cursed my house!"

"You kind of brought that upon yourself by teasing him, no?" Inwardly I sigh at the assassin's pouty face and Alistair pretending to cry about the curse on his house. He doesn't even _have_ a house, for as far as I know. Silly boys, acting like children. On the other hand, our Crow hasn't seen much action lately and I wouldn't want him to lose his fatal touch. "Leliana, do you mind?"

She looks up from a parchment she was writing on. "Hm, what? What must I mind?"

"Do you mind staying here, while Zevran joins us to kill some darkspawn?" I don't think she got any of the previous discussion.

"Oh, no, of course not. I have things to do..." Frowning in thought, the bard continues scribbling in her beautiful handwriting. Her lips move silently with every scratch of her quill; I'd never seen this little habit before. It's cute. "Do you know of a word that rhymes with landship?"

Ask me for a word that rhymes with orange, why don't you. "Uhm... Chilli dip?" Yes, that would be a great poem. _See yonder landship! It would go great with some chilli dip!_ "No, sorry, I got nothing. Poetry isn't my thing."

Leliana lets out a giggle. "Chilli dip! That is hilarious, but it would not be fitting, I fear. Thank you for trying."

"Oh, I know!" Alistair has a look of enlightenment on his face. "How about bacon strip?" He loudly clears his throat. "As I eat my bacon strip, I contemplate the awesome landship! Huh? Huh?"

"You and our fearless leader are birds of a feather, aren't you?" Chuckling in amusement, Leliana shakes her head. "That is very sweet, Alistair, but I need serious suggestions." Obviously thinking very poetic thoughts, she chews the end of her quill.

I shrug. "We'll leave you to it. All right, Zevran, you're coming with us."

Immediately the man jumps up and throws his arms around me. "Oh, thank you! Finally I get to see some action again."

"Well, I'm glad you're so happy I'm putting you in a potentially life threatening situation." I grin at him. After we've cleaned out Ostagar, I'm sure he'll not be so eager for any more action.

"Oh yes, I hadn't quite thought of that." The sunny look on his face clouds over. "Am I permitted to change my mind?" Slowly he backs away from me.

"Nope!" Alistair gleefully grabs the assassin by the collar. "You wanted some action and by the Maker, you will have it!"


	140. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - X Marks the Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going back to Ostagar isn't easy on Stubbs either.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - X Marks the Spot

"Why on earth is it snowing here?" I clasp my arms around myself, shivering. "The weather was just cold and miserable a little distance away from Ostagar, but here it's _ice_ cold and miserable."

Wynne nods sagaciously. "I must admit that I am also at a loss, concerning these strange weather conditions. Perhaps the darkspawn brought them?"

"Not troubled by the cold at all," Zevran almost sings. "You know, ladies, I see a very large tree over there behind which I could warm the both of you up very well." Stubbs barks at the elf, full of disapproval. He decided he wanted to come too, I think. I don't know. He just joined us when we left the camp, and I let him. Maybe he has something to wrap up here as well. "Do not start with me, dog." The assassin's voice has taken on a haughty tone. "I shall say to them whatever I please. How about it, my lovelies?"

Wynne's lips are pursed, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Thank you kindly for the offer, but that will not be necessary. I shall enjoy a cup of hot cocoa and sit by the fire when we return to camp." Do I detect a hint of frustration there?

"Ooh, can I have some too?" Alistair and I ask almost simultaneously. I love hot cocoa. It's the best on a cold day, but sadly it's a rare treat. Cocoa doesn't grow on trees... At least, not here. Exotics like that come all the way from Par Vollen and such faraway places. I wonder what else they have there. Fruits, spices. Interesting. Mmm, hot cocoa! Just the thought of it makes me feel warm inside. On the outside, not so much.

"Of course, dear children." The old lady chuckles, her mood lifted. "Perhaps you would like some as well, Zevran?"

"I do not have such a sweet tooth, I fear." Zevran sighs in disappointment at his failed invitation. Did he really think that was going to work? "Would you happen to have coffee somewhere with you?"

Wynne answers kindly: "Ah, of course. I will brew you a cup when we return."

"Oh, man... My darkspawn senses are tingling like crazy!" So, so many of them. They whisper in my mind like a mess hall full of mages during dinner; a cacophony of noise. Stubbs barks and growls menacingly, his fur standing on end. Some of the mental whispers intensify; before long, we are surrounded by a small group of darkspawn. Time to get this party started.

~*|'-'|*~

Zevran is busily pulling the greaves off a particularly powerful darkspawn we just killed. Suspiciously fancy greaves too. Gold and black. I think I know them. "Must... have..." he mutters under his breath.

"It feels so wrong to find this here." Al wearily shakes his head. "Thick with their rot, and..." His voice trails off.

"They belonged to the king, yes?" I pat him on the shoulder, only to find a look of infinite sadness in his lovely eyes. "Your... brother?"

He nods. "Mind you, I never had that much of a relationship with him, but I believed in him. You know, in his confidence that it would be a glorious battle, that we would win..."

"I'm sorry." Wrapping my arms around his waist, I rest my head on his breastplate. "We didn't win then, but we will kill every single darkspawn that we find here. Then we will find our late king, and give him a proper send-off."

"Thank you. I would like that." He releases me and walks ahead. "Onward, then. By the way..." A smile is on his face as he turns in my direction. "You're doing a great job with that sword."

~*|'-'|*~

First we found Cailan's boots, and now his shield. The darkspawn that carry the king's stuff seem to be of high rank, far more powerful than their little friends. Of whom there are quite a lot. I shudder to think of what they did to the poor man's body.

Stubbs whines pitifully and nuzzles the corpse of a mabari, bloodied and maimed. I kneel beside him to pat his back. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Did you know this one? Was it one of your friends? A puppy of your own litter?"

He gives a sad woof, rests his massive head on my shoulder, while whimpering in a heartbreaking way. I've never seen my ferocious pet so down, so depressed. This dog must have meant a lot to him. Even though it's been mutilated almost beyond recognition, the studded collar around its neck is still in pretty good condition. I remove it and put it on Stubbs instead. "See? Now your friend can always be with you."

His ears pick up; he barks, definitely less sad than before. My reward is a big lick across the face.

"There..." Alistair walks a distance ahead as if in a trance, and halts by a familiar place. That's where Duncan had his little camp, where he summoned us, first four, then two, to give us instructions and guidance. I'd better follow. "Duncan's bonfire."

"Yes." I hook my arm through his. "Does it hurt you, seeing this? Seeing how they defiled it?" This area is severely tainted, even more so than the rest of Ostagar. Darkspawn spears are sticking out of the burnt logs, adorned with those strange trophies and ornaments they seem to like so much.

His jaw is set, and his handsome face carries a look of grim determination I've truly never seen before. It suits him, if I'm honest. "No." His bitter voice comes from between clenched teeth. "It just makes me so... _angry_. I'm going to make them pay dearly for this mess. Are you with me, Aster?"

"I'm with you always and all the way, you know that."

"Good to know." With a wry smile, he takes me in his arms and kisses me on the cheek. But then he sniffs, wrinkling his nose. "You smell like dog."

Stubbs barks in response to that, as if to say he was responsible. Which he was. "He did it." I point at the dog, making him wag his stumpy tail. "Oh, we should look for this key that Elric hid here." His shaky map with even shakier coordinates comes out of my pouch. X marks the spot. It's where the mages were camping before; that's very close to here. In fact, I can see it. But where was apparently a statue of Andraste before, now is a pile of rubble. "Hey Stubbs, you see those loose rocks? Dig there and see if you can find a key for me."

He runs off, and after some digging returns with a dirt encrusted, golden key. My mabari is very good at digging; the potholes he made in our various campsites prove the point. Many a morning have I woken up to someone's muffled swearing. Not properly awake yet, they tend to step in and fall on their faces. Sten was the most spectacular victim, because he spat out various words in the Qunari tongue. And that sounds awesome. "Good boy! Thank you." My vigorous petting makes him pant happily.

"Who'd have thought his incessant digging would prove useful someday?" Alistair says dryly, earning himself an insulted growl. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! You're always useful."

Appeased, Stubbs utters a triumphant grunt.


	141. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Darkspawn, Darkspawn, Darkspawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are sooo many darkspawn.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Darkspawn, Darkspawn, Darkspawn

_To His Majesty, King Cailan of Ferelden:_

_My Warden-Commander assures me that we face a Blight. This thing threatens us both, and we must work together to fight it, lest it devour all. Our two nations have not had a happy history, but that is all it is - history. It is the future that is at stake now. Let us put aside our fathers' disagreements so that we may secure the future for both our countries._

_My chevaliers stand ready and will accompany the Grey Wardens of Orlais to Ferelden. At your word, the might of Orlais will march to reinforce the Fereldan forces._

_Sincerely,_

_Empress Celene I._

"So it was true!" Alistair exclaims, reading the letter from inside the king's treasure chest over my shoulder. "Cailan had convinced the forces of Orlais to ally against the darkspawn!"

Wynne, reading over my other shoulder, adds: "Empress Celene was merely awaiting his response!"

"A response that never came and now never will, thanks to Loghain's treachery." Again he is speaking from between clenched teeth.

"Yes, blah, blah, blah..." Zevran yawns in boredom. "I am more interested in that sexy sword. May I have it?" He greedily eyes the longsword, glowing with blue runes.

Al sends him a glare that is deadly in its intensity. "Paws off. It was Maric's, and I'm not going to give it to some guy who tried to kill us." Instead he claims it for his own. Which he should, really. Maric was his father, after all, and Cailan wanted to slay the archdemon with that blade. Now Alistair can do it. Nice how things work out sometimes.

"No? Perhaps you and I could make a trade." The assassin shoots Al a look that is so suave and sexy it might have worked. If the latter were into men.

"I swear, you're one step away from getting my boot up your arse!" Slowly but surely, his face is turning red with indignation and anger.

Zev quickly takes a step back. "Never mind then."

"You know, this is another one of the reasons why we never take you along. You don't know how to behave." I shake my head. "Frankly, you're just bloody annoying." Stubbs seconds this with his confirmation bark.

With a mighty scowl, the elf snatches the second letter from my hands and begins reading it. His eyes become larger and larger. "Oh, ho, ho! Juicy gossip! It says here that Arl Eamon was trying to convince the king to get rid of the queen, so he could impregnate a more fertile woman."

"What? Give me that." Alistair quickly goes over the contents. "He does have a point. If Cailan and Anora had managed to produce an heir, we wouldn't really be in this crap."

I quirk my eyebrow at him. "You mean, you wouldn't be called upon the take the throne."

"Yes..." He sighs wistfully. "Yes, that too."

~*|'-'|*~

Andraste's tits, but this is terrible. Crucified to some kind of primitive wooden construction, is the body of King Cailan. Around his waist is an enormous hand print, bruised black and blue. Blood encrusts his face. Arrows and spears are sticking out of him. Strange that even after six months or so, he still looks quite fresh. Very strange. Could be something in the air that preserves him. Or the cold. Probably the cold. And to think that this was once the lively fellow who was so curious to see Duncan's latest recruit that he came to greet us himself. At least he's still got on his smallclothes. The lack of them would have added greatly to his humiliation. Ow. Alistair is crushing my hand into a pulp again.

As I stealthily glance around, I see everyone looking up at the dead king in silent reverence. Except for Zevran, who seems to be plain bored. Naturally, he wasn't present here the first time, so this won't mean as much to him as it does to the three, or four, of us.

"Forgive us, my king," Al murmurs. "Once we've flushed the darkspawn from their holes and bought ourselves some time, we'll be back to see you to the Maker."

I nod. "Yes, indeed, we-..."

Fucking darkspawn. This sorcerer pops up, bringing several of his friends with him. Archers. As if that wasn't enough, the sorcerer also revives some of the corpses that are lying around here. Methinks it is a necromancer. How wonderful. And it's a coward too; no worries though. We'll chase it down and kill it. After these.

~*|'-'|*~

My fellow Warden gestures ahead. "The Tower of Ishal." It's still as imposing and ruined as ever. For shame, the darkspawn haven't even done any repairs. "Let's do this."

Now that the king's gauntlets and breastplate are in our possession too, we have no other place to go than inside. "Hmm, so great to be back." I have nothing but pleasant memories of this tower. That there is sarcasm.

"Ha, yeah... I remember you crying at the sight of that ogre the last time we were here." Alistair pats my head as if I'm a child. "But I'm sure you will be fine this time."

"Hey!" I shake my fist at him. "First this place is overrun with darkspawn, then I trip over some wire, the bloody floor starts burning and that soldier dies, and finally some hulking monstrosity tearing chunks off a corpse? You forget my previous life mostly consisted of studying magic. In theory."

He raises his hands in placation. "I meant nothing by it!"

"Oh, bite me." I open the door. "After you."

"Of course, but first..." Before I can do anything, he scoops me up and gently sinks his teeth into the side of my neck. Mmm, that's so good. It's been too long since I've had someone in my bed.

Zevran harrumphs. "Get a room!"

And now Wynne harrumphs. "Do you hear that, Alistair? Even Zevran thinks your behaviour is highly inappropriate!" She sounds rather miffed. "Have you no manners? Let Astoreth go this instant."

Gingerly he sets me down. "I'm sorry. But look, at least she's not angry with me anymore." A wide grin of triumph adorns his face.

"Why must you take things so literally?" I rub at the bite mark on my neck, still wet with saliva. The area feels overly warm, and so does my face.

"Because it makes you smile," he says happily. "See? You're smiling."

Unable to turn down the corners of my mouth, I wag my finger at him. "Sometimes, I really dislike you."

"No, you don't." With obvious glee he messes up my hair. "You adore me."

I'm not even going to answer that. But damn it if he isn't right.

~*|'-'|*~

"Darkspawn. Lots and lots of them." I press my fingers to my temples. It's like a swarm of bees in my head. "You guys stay here, and I'll Fireball them."

"Wynne, should you not be helping her?" Zevran suggests sweetly. "Two Fireballs are better than one, no?"

The old lady shrugs. "As you may have noticed, I specialize in the School of Creation. Primal spells are where our Warden's talent lies."

"Oh, oh!" I snap my fingers. "I do have a nice idea though. Do you happen to know Grease?"

Wynne's eyes instantly light up. "It has been some time since I've used it, but yes, I do." She follows me deeper into the tower. In an uncharacteristically girlish giggle she adds: "When I was still a teenager, a few of my friends and I would sneak up to the templar's quarters and cast Grease on their floor. Great hilarity ensued."

A mental image of templars slipping, falling and cursing, their armours clanging loudly. A pile of men in heavy metal strewn across the floor. Priceless. "I'm beginning to like you more and more."

The room we're in is the same one that was booby-trapped the last time. The time has come to give these ugly buggers a taste of their own medicine. It takes Wynne a mere second to Grease the floor. Upon noticing my tainted self, a great group of darkspawn come flocking toward us. Just in time to get caught in the wonderful double effect of Grease and Fire Ball. The only one left standing is an enormous, angry ogre. Tearing a chunk of stone from the floor to hurl at us. Wynne and I take cover. "We need some help in here!" she yells.


	142. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Down the Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is talk of entering holes and yet there is no sex.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Down the Hole

"Ugh." Alistair peers down the abyss-like hole that is just before the door. It's been thoroughly barricaded from the other side, so we can't go to the second floor. Woe. "Down the hole and into the deep. I don't even want to imagine where that leads."

A perfect introduction for some choice innuendo, and Zev's not even making a comment. I look at him. "You're not going to say anything?"

"Oh, no, no." His hands are raised, the look on his face wary. "I would prefer not to get a boot up my behind. Especially one of that size."

"Very good, you are beginning to learn." Wynne encouragingly pats him on the shoulder. "Now, who is our first volunteer to climb down?"

Nobody says anything, so I'll be the volunteer then. "Fine, I'll do it." With my sword strapped to my belt, and the shield to my back, I carefully lower myself down the abyss. Thankfully the stone is rough and there are plenty of gaps and ledges to hold onto.

"Have you ever climbed anything before?" My colleague frowns in worry. "Maybe you should just hitch a ride on my back."

I go down a little farther. "I'm a big girl, I can look out for myself. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?" But of course the rock I was holding onto has to come loose. " _Waaaaaaaah_!" Oh dear, this is a long fall. Don't die, don't die, don't... Thud. Hey, lucky. I landed on something, not quite soft, but squishy enough to shield me from serious injury. Something that just uttered a piercing shriek. Only my bum feels a bit sore. Frightened shouts from my companions float onto me. "Don't worry, I'm fine. A giant spider broke my fall." I hope it's the force of my landing that killed it, and not my sheer weight.

Two pairs of hurlocks and genlocks are staring at me in obvious surprise. "Hey guys." One of them actually raises its hand at me, its manner hesitating. Kind of adorable, but it must be the shock at such a sudden intrusion. "Don't mind me, I'm just here to kill you." Only when I draw my weapon and pull the shield off my back, do the creatures react.

~*|'-'|*~

It took the others but a little while to join me down here (Stubbs was carried down in a bag on Alistair's back), in these ruined halls. I wonder at what it used to be. There are statues of Andraste, but there are also odd carvings on the walls. Of faces that seem to have tentacles growing out them. Although I suspect that's just my wild imagination. They are probably depictions of elaborate helmets adorned with horns. Stubbs is also curious; he sniffs here and there, pees here and there. Digs around in rubble to bring me items he apparently thinks might be useful. I love my dog. He's six kinds of awesome.

This area isn't as overrun with darkspawn as one might expect. Instead, giant spiders rule here. The one I accidentally crushed was probably just about to fight the darkspawn. I have cobwebs in places I didn't even realize I had. Ugh. Finally we crawl through a stone tunnel and end up back outside. A courtyard of sorts. The icy cold descends on me like a blanket made of snow. I want a cloak and I want it yesterday.

The genlock necromancer is already waiting for us, menacingly grinning its sharp teeth bare. A few gestures with its hands, a wisp of blue light and suddenly, an ogre emerges from under the snow. Judging by its colour and the two blades sticking out of its chest, it was dead. But not anymore. Roaring with rage, the creature extracts the sword and dagger to drop them in the snow.

"My friends, the ogre is all yours." On a sign of the sorcerer, several skeletons pop out of the snow as well. "As are the undead. I'll deal with the necromancer." Wynne, Alistair and Zevran immediately set to killing them all.

The snow crunches under my boots as I make my way to the necromancer, bloody-edged blade at the ready. The creature is so occupied with keeping its undead minions on their feet, that it hardly notices my presence. Until it is too late, of course. Separated from the neck, its ugly head flies away. The spray of blood paints the snow crimson. Only now do I notice that the creature was wearing Cailan's helm on his belt. Wagging his tail, Stubbs brings it to me and drops it at my feet. "You're the best dog ever." He barks happily.

"They suddenly all stopped moving," a puzzled Zevran says behind me.

"Of course they did," Wynne replies sagely. "A _dead_ necromancer cannot sustain the stolen life energy of his undead minions." A noise of understanding from both men.

Alistair looks at the helm resting under my arm. "Well, that's the last of them." He holds up the weapons that were previously embedded in the ogre. "Look at these. Do they seem familiar to you?"

"Certainly. They belonged to Duncan." In the few weeks it took us to travel to Ostagar, I mostly walked behind the man and got a good eyeful of the sword and dagger strapped to his back. His garb was the most interesting-looking one I've seen to date. "It's too bad we can't give him a proper burial, or anything of the sort."

"Yeah..." My friend absently scratches his head. "So, I think you should have them. Duncan was very proud of you, and he would be even prouder if he'd got to see you now. Besides, this sword is better than the spare I lent you."

I gingerly take the obviously well-kept weapons from his hands. "He... he was? Really? Thank you." Oh crap, I'm getting all teary-eyed here. Duncan's dagger takes the place of my own. "Here Zev, you can have this one. I took it off one of your cronies anyway."

"Ah, alas, poor Derek." Fondly, the assassin cradles the dagger to his chest. "I knew him well."

"A good friend of yours, then." Or a lover. Hmm. "Sorry I killed him." I show him my most apologetic smile.

He pockets the knife and smiles back."Eh, it's fine." Dismissively he waves his hand. "He kind of had it coming."

I shrug. "True. Now then, we may return and put the king to rest." I feel a strong urge to try on the helmet, but first it needs to be thoroughly sterilized. Just like all other pieces of royal armour.

"Judging from the lines around your eyes, Alistair, I daresay you look almost as old as I do." The old lady sends him a pitying look.

Zev's behaviour apparently rubs off, because Al just grins and says suggestively: "And might I say, my lady, that you are looking younger and younger?" There is a distinct flirty tone to his voice. My word.

"Be careful whom you flirt with, young man." Wynne chuckles in amusement. "If you wake up beside me tomorrow morning, I'll be back to reminding you of your grandmother."

"B-beside you?" Now he sounds confused. Our lecherous elf on the other hand, utters a barely audible snigger.

Again, the senior enchantress laughs. "You heard me. It wouldn't be the first time I woke to a younger man in my bed." And you think you know someone. Sweet Maker, I just cannot imagine Wynne in bed with Alistair. It... It kind of freaks me out. Now I have to scrub my brain with bleach.

"Are all women this evil and conniving when they grow old?" Alistair asks, with a sidelong glance at me. I have nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. All two or three of my lovers have been older than me.

"Just me, dear. Just me." Wynne flips her hair in an exaggerated manner, making clear that she's just pulling his leg. Or is she? I would rather not think about that too much.


	143. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari wilds - Blow Your Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something interesting happens while Zevran and Astoreth go off to find wood for Cailan's pyre.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari wilds - Blow Your Mind

"They left him here to rot." Alistair looks up at his brother's corpse in dismay. "We need to do something."

"Well, if you let me sit on your shoulders, I think we're tall enough to take him down." I gauge the height. "Yes, that should be about right. And while we do that, Wynne and Zevran could go collect some wood and build a pyre. Unless, Wynne, you would rather help Alistair."

Zevran harrumphs in protest. "I will most certainly not build a pyre for the king of a cold, wet country I am not even a citizen of. Do what you will, I am returning to the others."

Al doesn't even give him the chance to walk away and firmly grabs the elf by the shoulder. "Cailan was a good man who hoped too much and died too young. He deserves what little honour we can afford to grant him." His voice is low and foreboding, his eyes narrowed. "And 'we' includes _you_."

"Zevran, you insisted on coming with us." I gently pry my fellow Warden's hand away. "You didn't think that all we were going to do was fight, did you? Take the bad with the good. Come on, I'll come with you. Stay, Stubbs. They might need your help." Obediently my dog sits down beside Wynne. The two men exchange glares, while I pull the elf away to go find some wood. They only stop when we are too far away. "What's the problem? Why are you being like this?"

"I..." He stops walking and rubs his eyes. "I wouldn't know."

A cold, wet country he's not even a citizen of, wasn't it? "You're homesick." There are some useful branches here, so I bend over to pick them up. When I get rise again, he's not even looking at my behind, just staring at his feet with a sad look on his face. This is bad. "Tell me of Antiva, if you would." I slip my arm around his shoulders, guiding him a bit further. That wood isn't going to collect itself, and we should get a move on out of this miserably cold, accursed place.

"You wish to know of Antiva, hmm?" He chuckles wryly. "The only way to truly appreciate it would be to go there. It is a warm place, not cold and harsh like this Ferelden." A longing sigh. "In Antiva it rains often, but the flowers are always in bloom... Or so the saying goes."

"Ah, that does sound better than miserable cold and boring countryside." Something to add to my to-do-list: visit Antiva someday. "Where are you from exactly?"

The assassin's luscious lips stretch into a fond smile. "I hail from the glorious Antiva City, home to the royal palace. It is a glittering gem," he makes a wide gesture with both arms, "amidst the sand, my Antiva City. Do you come from someplace comparable?"

"Oh, certainly." I paint a wide arc in the air with my free arm. In a dramatic voice, I proclaim: "I come from a giant stone penis, rising out of a misty lake."

"Pardon?" he queries in amusement.

I have no choice but to laugh at the funny face he's making. "I was talking about the suspiciously phallic tower of the Circle. I don't know who my parents were, or where I was originally born. Nor does it really matter."

"I see." Zevran nods pensively. "Hmm, you know what is most odd? We speak of my homeland, and for all its wine and its dark-haired beauties and the lillo flutes of the minstrels, I miss the leather the most."

"Are you speaking of a certain part of the anatomy of those dark-haired beauties?" All I get is a quizzical stare. "If I remember correctly, leather is also a slang term for the female genitals."

He breaks into a laugh. "It might as well have been, but not this time. I mean the smell!" His nostrils flare as he sniffs delightedly. "For years I lived in a tiny apartment near Antiva City's leather-making district. I grew accustomed to the stench, even though the humans complained of it constantly. To this day the smell of fresh leather is what reminds me of home more than anything else."

"I understand. Smells are important when it comes to memories." But leather? That's quite strange.

"So they are." His arm slides around my waist and all of a sudden he doesn't look so miserable anymore. "I understand why Alistair is so fond of you." No undertone of seduction to his voice, no innuendo. Ah, a side of him I've never seen before. "Perhaps I have been too occupied with trying to talk you into my bed, but now I see you really are a gem of a woman." Fondly he pulls me into his embrace. I'm not so cold anymore. "Thank you for this, Astoreth."

I wrap my arms around him in turn. "Oh, sure, I... Wait, did you just say my name?"

"Why, yes, I did. Does that surprise you?" His beautifully accented voice sounds just above my ear, his lips lightly touching it.

"You normally call me Warden, accompanied by some adjective." What was it again? Sweet Warden, dear Warden. Mostly those. "You're welcome, in any case. If ever you need to talk, I'm here."

His lips make contact with my skin. A shudder passes through me. "Perhaps I could repay this kindness? In the manner I am most skilled?" There's lust in his voice. I should've known. And yet I don't really mind. Not at all.

"Please tell me it's..." His hand moves between my thighs, the fingers fluttering along the inside of my right. "Flowers and a nice... dinner..." Oh fuck, but he smells fantastic. Sweet cinnamon cookies.

"Flowers are reproductive organs, as a bright girl such as yourself must know," he chuckles into my ear. "And in case you worry, my lovely, let me assure you that I have only _your_ pleasure in mind."

My breath catches in my throat when his fingers move higher and higher. Caressing ever so lightly. "My... my pleasure? But I..." Tempting. So tempting. "I shouldn't, really. All I did was ask you about Antiva."

"And in doing so you made me feel better. I insist." Soft kisses along the side of my neck, a warm body pressed persistently against mine. "You seem as if you could use it."

"True..." I should be saying no. I think. Shouldn't I? He's been throwing himself at me since the very beginning, and Jowan is gone. Maybe I should allow myself some mindless fun. "Well, all right then. What are you going to do?"

I didn't even notice it, but there he is sitting on his knees, smirking up at me. "I think you know." Almost lovingly he parts the slit in my robes and tucks the fabric under my belt so it won't get in the way. He nuzzles me right through my panties. Even that feels nice. Memories. Jowan loved doing this. I think he spent most of our time together with his face between my thighs. "I will do nothing that you would not enjoy. On my honour." Zev's fingers hook through the sides of my knickers, his amber eyes gaze up at me questioningly. "May I?"

I can only nod. There is a wall against my back. When...? So strange. The stones must be a as cold as ice, but I do not feel it. I _can't_ feel it. My undergarment slides down my legs, and I feel his hot breath against my bare skin. First, only kisses on the insides of my thighs. Just when I think that he's about to really go for it, even his teasing stops. I take a peek; I see and feel how he spreads me apart and studies me. "How beautifully pink you are," he whispers reverently. "And so delightfully fragrant." Deeply he inhales, almost burying his nose in my snatch. "You must possess the sweetest little bud I have ever laid eyes on."

"Only my pleasure in mind, he says." I tangle my fingers into his hair and give a sharp yank. "It's really cute and all, how you're singing my pussy's praises, but I know a better use for that glib tongue of yours." What's happening to me? I'm usually never like this. So dominant. This feels good. It feels right. Pulling hard enough to hurt him, I bring his face closer to me. "Stop talking and start licking."

"As my mistress desires." His meek words make clear that he understands the part he should be playing. Good boy. My leg is hooked over his shoulder before he dives in. Oh. My. Goodness. Consider my mind blown. He wasn't bragging about his oral skills, let me tell you. His tongue slowly glides along my lips, sometimes dipping between them. I swear it's as if I can feel it deep inside of me.

And then, tiny circles traced around my clit. Still he takes care not to make me come immediately. I've no doubt that he could do that. Rubbing up against that vibrating cock is all well and fine, but it can't beat a man who knows exactly what to do with his tongue and fingers. A single digit slips into me, appears to be curling into a "come hither" gesture. And it rubs against something I didn't even know I possessed. I squeeze my eyes shut. This is so good, and at the same time, not so much... "Zev, you might want to stop," I manage to moan somehow. "I feel like I have to pee, and I'd hate to do that all over you."

"No, you must simply try to relax." Not once does he move his mouth away from me. I feel more than hear what he's saying. "Trust me."

I shrug. He knows what he's doing, after all. "If you say so." As I let go of my anxiety to empty my bladder while in such an intimate act, the unwelcome pressure ebbs away. His rubbing and licking become more intense, the tension in my gut building up until it's almost unbearable. One last flick of his expert tongue, and the tension turns into a massive explosion. Everything goes white behind my eyelids. I cry out and fucking _gush_ several squirts of hot liquid. My legs are jelly, all my muscles are trembling. That there is the craziest orgasm I've ever had. "Whoa..."

The assassin rises. Smugly smiling down on my no doubt blushing face, he wipes his chin and laps up the juices. "See? I _told_ you I would blow your mind."


	144. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Eternity in My Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Cailan finally gets a decent funeral.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Eternity in My Arms

Finally both Zevran and I have collected a good amount of branches to build a pyre with. We haven't really spoken since... Since he went down on me. Let's just call a spade a spade. I only dared to ask him whether I felt wide down there, because I really wanted to know. It's kind of an obsession, to be perfectly honest. I really want to have good sex again someday soon. Don't know with whom, but it won't be difficult to find someone, I'm sure. Zev assured me that it was obvious to him I'd been dutifully doing the exercises women are recommended to do after they give birth. I should thank Wynne for urging me to do them. They really pay off then. I'm glad; the last time I put a finger in there, I almost had to go in with a torch to see where I'd lost it.

After that, no words were exchanged. I was overwhelmed with the physical need for some good release, I suppose. Otherwise I'd never have agreed to it. And now things are a tad awkward. I'm sure it will wear off anyhow. At some point. He won't stop smirking at me, damn it. As we return to the other three, it's obvious that things have not quite gone according to plan.

"What gives?" the Crow asks almost cheerfully. "Why have you not taken down your king yet?"

"Er, well..." Wynne clears her throat, an obvious blush on her face. "I have a fear of heights." Stubbs barks encouragingly and rubs his face against her hip in sympathy.

I lay a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, dear. Didn't you have trouble living in the tower then?"

"I was fine as long as I didn't look out of a window." She smiles rather awkwardly. "I must apologize for the delay."

"Don't be ridiculous." Alistair shakes his head. "I already told you hundreds of times it was no problem at all." Briefly he glances at the suspended body. "He's not going anywhere."

My eyebrow goes up all on its own from hearing that irreverent remark, true though it may be. He probably didn't mean it that way. "Would you mind helping Zevran build the pyre then, Wynne?"

She nods. "I will help him." With that, she relieves me of the branches and turns to the elf.

"Well, good to see that's taken care of." Al crouches on the snowy ground at the base of the construction that holds Cailan in the air. "Hop on."

"Okay." I get on his shoulders and hold onto his neck for dear life. This is so creepy. "Please don't drop me." Eep. So high.

He takes a firm hold of my legs. "Not in a million years! Say, what took you two so long?"

Even before I can answer, Stubbs barks cheerfully. It's almost as if he knows. He probably smelled it off me, or something. Just this once, I'm happy hardly any of us can understand his language. I grind out a rather shrill giggle. "We just had some trouble finding good branches. The snow is pretty deep, you know." As soon as I am close enough, I begin pulling the arrows out of Cailan's legs and chest.

"Oh, so you didn't have to fight him off, huh?" The other Warden laughs. "Good. Finally he's learning some manners."

The spears are more difficult to extract. "So it would seem." Yes, I don't think I'll tell him about how Zevran's face was buried between my thighs not so long ago. "Get ready to catch him, he's about to completely come loose."

His hands let go of my legs to catch the dead man, so I reflexively close them around his neck. "Can't... breathe!" he wheezes.

"Sorry." I loosen my grip. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks." Carefully having lain down the body, he crouches again in order to let me get off him without seriously hurting myself. "Ugh, I'm going to take a long, long bath after this." He wrinkles his nose at the corpse in his arms. Fresh he may look, fresh he doesn't smell. My mabari follows us, curiously looking at Alistair and his passenger. He's probably wondering why his friend is carrying that smelly fellow around.

Wynne and Zevran have finished building the pyre. It looks great. "Good job, you two."

They both nod gravely, the elf moving to help Alistair place his brother on the wooden structure. "If I may, Alistair, I would like to apologize for my behaviour earlier."

"It's fine. I'm used to you being an..." He smiles joylessly. "To you being you."

"Nevertheless." Zevran completely ignores the barely hidden barb. "I was being obstinate because I miss my home, as your fellow Warden has made me realize. Of course this man deserves any honour we could grant him."

Al unexpectedly claps the shorter man on the shoulder. "Well thanks, Zev, that's good to hear. And don't worry about Antiva; as soon as this mess is done with, you can set off. It will probably still be there."

"Do we happen to have anything we can cover him with?" I cross our late king's arms before his chest and make sure he's in a dignified position. Only negative answers follow my question. "Oh, that's too bad."

"Aster, would you do the honours?" My colleague squeezes my shoulder. "Will you start the fire?"

"As you wish." I conjure a jet of flame from my hands, and the others collect behind me. It takes a good amount of fire before the slightly wet branches finally alight. A certain verse of the chant comes to my mind. " _Let the blade pass through the flesh, let my blood touch the ground, let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice._ " I bow to King Cailan, who is soon to be consumed by the fire. "You gave your life for Ferelden, Your Majesty. We will make sure that this sacrifice will not have been in vain. Your task here is done. As Andraste said: _Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity_."

Alistair tightly wraps his arms around me. He smells of death and despair. "That was beautiful. I'm sure he would've liked that," he chokes out. Without a sound, his hot tears fall onto my shoulder.

I can't really say anything. No words of comfort could make him feel better about losing the brother he obviously cared more about than even he knew.


	145. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - A Huge Fucking Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventurers finally confront Flemeth.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - A Huge Fucking Dragon

After we'd returned to camp, I fed Collin and received some unkind glares from Morrigan because I haven't killed her mother yet and now we are in the Korcari Wilds again. I left Alistair and Zevran behind; the former because he was too emotional to fight an ancient abomination, the latter because his constant smirking and lascivious little gestures when nobody was looking were just plain unnerving. Stubbs wanted to stay with Alistair, to cheer him up, I think. Instead, Leliana and Shale have come with Wynne and me. Girl power, yeah.

I remember the last time we took this route through the Wilds. It was as cold then as it is now. How many tree roots had I tripped over? Many, no doubt. And somehow a tree comes to mind. Not entirely sure what that means. Daveth was there too. He carried me on his back, because I kept falling down. Heh. I'll never, ever forget that man. This time, however, I'm not having any trouble. All this travelling has truly done wonders for my clumsiness.

Leliana is looking around curiously at the luscious plant life. I've already picked me a whole lot of elfroot. An entire night of preparing poultices will keep my mind off what I did with Zevran. What happens in Ostagar, stays in Ostagar. It'll be our dirty little secret.

"Is this what we came here for?" the bard asks, pointing at the dilapidated shack a small distance away from us. In front is none other than Flemeth. Apparently doing nothing. "Is that Morrigan's mother?"

"Yes, that's her. The legendary Flemeth." I shrug. "If you believe that's really the woman the legends speak of." She may just seem a crazy old bat, but I'm sure we shouldn't underestimate her.

Shale laughs. "Ah, a frail old human to crush! It really doesn't mean to pose me any challenges, does it?"

"Oh, you will see, Shale." Leliana has put on an ominous voice. "Perhaps there is more than meets the eye here."

Flemeth immediately looks at me as we approach. "And so you return." A maniacal cackle comes out of her withered mouth. "Lovely Morrigan has at last found someone willing to dance to her tune. Such enchanting music she plays, wouldn't you say?" Another cackle. Strange. The last time we met, she was wearing a tattered old dress, and now she's in yellow robes. Just like the ones I used to wear. I wonder how she came by these.

"Morrigan told me all about your little secret, Flemeth." I run a hand through my hair. This woman's obvious madness is making me just a tad nervous. "About how you managed to stay alive for so long."

"Ah, I see." The joyous twinkle in her warm brown eyes turns to one of hard determination. "Let us skip right to the ending, shall we? Do you slay the old wretch as Morrigan bids? Or does the tale take a different turn?"

I shrug. "I think you know the answer to that. Morrigan is my friend; I can't afford to lose her. I have no choice but to kill you." Already I have my sword and shield at the ready, but apparently we're not done talking yet.

"Choice," Flemeth muses. "There is power in choices, as there is in lies. I shall give you one of each: take my grimoire as a trophy to my daughter, and tell her I am slain." Chin cupped in her hand, she eyes me expectantly. "I go, and perhaps I surprise Morrigan one day. Or I may simply watch." She giggles that eerie laugh of hers. "It would be interesting to see what she does with her freedom. Enlightening, even. Would you give an old woman that?"

Hmm. So I walk out of here without bloodshed and tell Morrigan her mother is dead, while the old woman herself lays low for a while. After which she might come back and possess my friend's body anyway. Gee, such a dilemma... Not. "Forget about it, Flemeth." I point the tip of my sword at her throat. "Time for you to die."

Obviously I'm not intimidating enough, because the hag replies in a calm voice: "It is a dance poor Flemeth knows well. Let us see if she remembers the steps." Leisurely she walks away, up the natural platform by the side of her shack. "Come. She will earn what she takes." Her cold eyes gaze down on us. "I'd have it no other way." A blinding flash of light, and the old woman has become something else. A. Huge. Fucking. _Dragon_.

Shale shouts in glee: "Aha! A challenge!" With a happy bounce in her step, the golem runs up to the dragon. Just in time to catch some of the dragon's fiery breath. Not much damage done, since she's made of stone. "Oh, this is marvellous. I must thank it for bringing me along!" She swings her fist, hitting the dragon in the chest. It doesn't have that much of an effect. Time to poke it with something sharp.

"Astoreth! Are you _insane_?" Wynne yells as I make my way to Flemeth. "Stay back here and cast your spells!" Leliana doesn't say a word; full of concentration, she fires arrow after arrow at the enormous beast. Ice arrows, even. Best archer ever.

"No, I got this!" Thankfully, Flemeth is far too busy to notice my approach. Of course I could blast the crap out of her with magic, but where is the fun in that? Don't I need to really, truly use my martial skills as well? "Shale, keep her distracted." I intend to do what Alistair said about the Blight: the only way to stop it is to cut off the snake's head. Or something. Maybe I don't have to behead her; a sword through the brain should do the trick. Unexpectedly agile, I hoist myself onto the dragon's back. Thank you, Arcane Warrior. I'm sure this is just more of his doing.

Her back is broad and smooth, but not at all slippery. The shapeshifter doesn't even notice me until my arms are clasped around her neck. Fiercely shaking her head, she tries to get rid of me. Fortunately for me, I have a really good grip here. "Give up, Flemeth!" I stab my sword into the side of her long neck, causing a shrill cry and spray of deep red blood. "You die _now_!" More stabs, but that only angers her, it seems. This time she tosses her head so forcefully, I lose my grip. The fall doesn't even scare me, because it lands me on her head. Where I can plant a few feet of steel between her eyes. "Silly dragon. Not so sharp anymore, are we?" I drive my blade deep, deep into her head, all the way to the hilt. "No need to worry yourself though; my blade certainly is." The malicious dark eyes roll away, showing yellowy whites. Just for good measure, I pull out my sword and puncture her head a few more times. I'm soaked in blood, none of it mine. Makes for an interesting change, doesn't it?

Abruptly she crashes down, her relatively small legs collapsing under dead weight. I did it! I killed-... A last convulsion of the neck, and I'm thrown off. Fuck. I crash hard into a tree (and now I remember why I thought of a tree earlier). A sickening crack. Maddening pain. Where? Every-bloody-where. And why not? After all, it wouldn't do for me to escape battle unscathed. Oh, crap, that hurts! I think I'll just pass out. It has been a while since I've done that.

~*|'-'|*~

"You are lucky you're still alive." Wynne sternly glares at me while I support myself on Shale. "I told you not to engage that dragon directly, but no! You had to play the hero. It could have flown away and sent you crashing into the ground in a myriad of bits and pieces."

"I'm sorry." By the Maker and every god in the elven pantheon, that was terrible. I feebly and apologetically smile at her. "It was the adrenaline, I think. But at least she's dead." I pat the book under my arm. The bare tree on the cover is creepy. "She'll never bother Morrigan again, and I have her grimoire. All it took was a few broken ribs and a cracked skull." Which are now only tender, after Wynne's expert healing. She's right though. I could have been very dead. Seems like the old impulsiveness is still alive and kicking.

The old lady scoffs. "I cannot believe you went through all this trouble for that girl. She will probably not even be grateful to you."

"I must agree," Leliana chimes in. "Morrigan is never very kind, except to you, perhaps. And how on Thedas have you learned to handle a sword like that?"

"Oh yes, it fought very valiantly." Shale nods enthusiastically. "Too bad it had not considered the final death throes." Her glowing eyes peer down at me. "I watch intently whenever the two Wardens spar. It is a wonderful sight."

The bard gasps. "Alistair taught you that? That is amazing!"

"What, you've never heard the clang of steel in the middle of the night? But actually, no, Alistair provided me with experience; I already pretty much knew how to fight."

"What?" Shale appears to be puzzled. "It is a mage, is it not? Mages generally cannot handle blades the way it does."

I look up at her. "Look Shale, I could explain to you how it works, but I'm not going to."

"And why not?" the golem huffs.

"Because you don't care." I quirk an eyebrow at her. "Am I wrong?" Shale shakes her head. "Well then. Anyway, look guys, I know you don't like Morrigan much, but I do. And she's useful, right?"

"That is true," Wynne admits grudgingly. "She has pulled her weight. Very well then."

Leliana picks up her pace to walk beside me and pats me on the arm. "I think you are a true friend to do something like this for her."

Well, at least _someone_ understands.


	146. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Terms of Endearment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan is being unadjusted as always.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Terms of Endearment

Morrigan can't even spare a smile for me as she accepts the grimoire. That _bitch_. I'm obviously hurt and she obviously doesn't care. "Ah, Mother's real grimoire, is it?" Her long, delicate fingers trace the embroidered tree on the cover. "I am glad you were able to find it after all. My thanks for retrieving it. I shall begin studying immediately and unlock the power that it holds." After a curt nod, she rushes to her tent, the book cradled to her chest like a small treasure. Unbelievable. I suppose Wynne was right after all. Pff, when _isn't_ she right?

Well, whatever. It's done and that's all that matters. Inside my tent I find Stubbs, who is vigilantly watching the baby. My child just stares at the dog in wonder, sometimes reaching out his hand to touch his nose. Of course, licking of tiny fingers follows, which in turn is followed by a little giggle. Stubbs barks, wags his tail and goes outside after some petting. I quickly feed Collin some milk. He seems happy to see me again. And a little worried. There is a frown on his cute little face. Probably because I'm not in the best shape I've ever been.

"Don't worry, honey. Mommy is fine. She fought a dragon today, and that dragon smacked her into a tree. But auntie Wynne made mommy feel much better, yes, she did." I stroke my fingers along the lines in his forehead until they disappear. "Hey, where's my smile? Come on, smile for mommy, sweetheart." Ugh, I don't know the last time I cooed like this for a length of time. Probably when I was talking to Mister Wiggums. Cats have an effect similar to that of babies.

And there it is. The sweetest smile I've ever seen. His smile turns into a yawn, his eyes flutter shut, and in mere minutes, he is fast asleep. "Sweet dreams, my angel." I lay him in his bed and plant a kiss on his chubby cheek. Oh, dear me. I could use a hot bath to loosen my muscles. And my robes can now definitely be thrown away. Here's hoping I fit into the ones Wynne got me.

Towel and new robes swung over my shoulder, I stumble to the water a small distance away from the camp. Ugh, it's a stream. Had it been a pond, I could've heated it. But for this I don't really have the energy. A cold bath it is, then. I dip my toe into the water. A _very_ cold bath. Ugh.

As I strip off my robes, I can't help but wince. I'm in more pain that I thought. And stiff as a board. Cold water might numb the ache, but warm water would really be better. Ah, this isn't even so bad. I kind of like it, this cold.

"Hey."

I open my eyes and find my fellow Warden looking down on me. Oh damn it, I hadn't even noticed him coming over here. Good thing I am covered to the neck up. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

He sits down, dangling his bare feet in the water. "I don't know. Numb, I guess."

"I'm sorry. I should have known Ostagar would be too full of unpleasant memories-..."

"I'm not saying I regret going," he interrupts me. "If you'd decided to leave me behind, I would have whined and whined and whined some more, until you let me come. So..." Absently he runs a hand through his hair. "Shale tells me Flemeth turned into a dragon and you killed her in a rather spectacular way."

I splash some water onto my arm to clear away the blood on it. Soap. I knew I'd forgotten _something_. Well, I'm too far to go back now. "Spectacular, or stupid? I just climbed onto her back, then her neck; she threw me up into the air, landing me on her head, and then I stabbed her there. Several times."

"Duncan once told me he'd killed a dragon in a similar manner." Alistair smiles sadly. "It nearly cost him his life. According to Wynne, it almost did the same for you. You should really be more careful."

"I know. I've no idea what came over me, really." It was incredibly stupid. And all that for some selfish swamp wench who is apparently too pretty to care about me. Then again, she's been dutifully taking care of Collin. A favour for a favour it is, then.

He looks at me incredulously. "Risking your life, for _Morrigan_ , even. I bet she hardly thanked you."

"Hm yeah, you're right. Wynne said it too, but I had to be a good friend and fetch her that damned grimoire. But what's done is done. Hold on." For a few seconds, I fully submerge myself to come up sputtering. Cold, cold, cold, and I accidentally inhaled some water. "I think I'm done."

"No, you're not," he says dryly. "I'm pretty sure that your back is still caked in blood. And you're bruised all over. I should've been there to protect you."

I rise out of the stream and fling my arms around him, wet and everything. "Aw, you're too sweet. But I think I can look after myself."

"I know you can, but..." With a sad sigh, he lays his hand on my face, softly stroking along my cheekbone with his thumb. "I've already lost a lot, Aster. I don't want to lose you too." There is an expression of infinite misery in his eyes.

"Oh, Al, I..." His apparent sadness has its effect on me too. "I... don't really know what to say."

Desperately he clings to me, cradling me to his chest. " _Please_ , just promise me you will be more careful from now on. Please?" The tone is heartrending, pleading.

"I promise." Anything, if you won't cry. "I'm sorry I'm so stupid, but I promise I will be careful from now on."

"You're not stupid," he sighs. "I just thought we had that impulsiveness fully beaten out of you."

I laugh. "Apparently you've not done a good job at that." For some reason, I'm now thinking of being bent over Alistair's lap, while he deals hard, stinging slaps to my bare backside. Oh, my. That's so... _hot_. And probably painful. But mostly hot.

"Look." He cups my chin in his hand to tilt my face upwards. "I just want you to know that over the course of our time together, I've come to care about you a whole lot. And if you die on me, I'm never speaking to you again."

"Well, I wouldn't want that to happen..." Fascinating. The look in his eyes has completely changed. From utterly sad to dark and unreadable. "You mean a lot to me too, by the way."

"Good to hear that." He swallows thickly, then glances down. " _Holy Maker_!" he gasps. His eyes suddenly turn twice their normal size. "You're naked!"

I look at myself and gasp in feigned indignation. " _What_? How did this happen? Imagine, someone being naked while they bathe! Oh the outrage! For shame, and all that!"

"Har, har, har..." Face pulled into a scowl, he grunts exasperatedly. "Aren't we funny?"

"Yes, we certainly are." I slither out of his grasp, back into the water. The cold doesn't bother me so much anymore. "Now shoo, I should finish up and get dressed."

As he rises to his feet, I see how the front of his trousers protrudes rather interestingly. Ah, what I wouldn't give to play with that... He would let me, no doubt. But no ruining the virgin for me; I'm his friend. Friends don't do such things. I'm finally beginning to understand why Jowan always turned me down at first. I miss you, my blood mage. "Aster? Is something wrong?" I can hear Alistair say. Looking up, I see he is staring at me in alarm.

"Huh? No, of course not. Don't be silly." I stretch my mouth into my everything-is-just-peachy smile and point towards the camp. "Just go, before you notice that you're not wearing shoes and this fact shocks you out of your wits."

"Nonsense, I..." He looks down at his feet, then clutches his heart. "Someone _stole_ them! I need to find the one who stole my shoes. Justice must be served! I'll see you later." Happy for an awesome exit, he speeds away. This time I'll not ruin it by tackling him.

Me, I'm not so happy. Slowly I lower myself, until all but my head is enveloped in water. Numb; so numb. Except for the sensation in my chest, where it feels as if a hand as cold as ice is squeezing into my heart. Why now, all of a sudden? Why were you so consumed by your guilt, my dearest? Why didn't you Join us and try to redeem yourself? Why did I let you go? I know why I let you go. Because I love you too much to let your guilt slowly eat away at you. I fooled myself into thinking I didn't know how you felt, but I did. Every time I looked into your eyes, it was there. Behind the veil of love and warmth, there was a wall of pain and guilt. I tried to break it down by distracting you with my body, but I should have known better. All the great sex in the world could never chase away how betraying Lily made you feel. And now? Now it's _all_ gone. No more guilt, no more pain. No more affection, no more love. But my love for you remains and it always will. The promise I made to you I will keep, even if it tears me apart. I will-

"You are cruel, to deny poor Alistair your attentions so," an accented voice drawls nearby. I'm not even going to wonder how he got to sit beside me without me noticing; it's his job to blend into the shadows. Lucky for me he isn't planning to kill me anymore.

"Go away, Zevran." My voice sounds that way again. Without emotion. Perhaps this is what I would have sounded like if I'd decided on Tranquillity instead of the Harrowing. "I really need to be by myself for now."

The assassin makes a surprised noise. "What is wrong with you, _piccola_? You do not sound like the passionate woman who was writhing in my arms mere hours prior."

"Peek-coh-lah? What does _that_ mean?" It had better mean something nice, or else. I might yet find the will to use my death glare.

"Nothing terrible, I assure you." With his typical smirk, Zev licks his lips. "Merely little one."

"Heh." I can see the humour in this, even if my voice still won't show it. "You are an elf, and even compared to you I am small."

A tanned arm is draped around my shoulders. "If it makes you feel better, you are not that much shorter than I am." His smooth, wiry upper body makes contact with me. Normally this would make me shiver, or something equally cheesy, but now I don't really care. So there's an attractive, naked guy in here with me. Big deal.

"Huzzah." Joy. I cannot contain myself from it. "Please go away now."

"Seeing you like this unnerves me." All seduction has fled from his voice. "Tell me what ails you, dear Wa-..." He chuckles and corrects himself: "Astoreth. By now you should know that you can trust me."

I sigh. Why wouldn't I tell him? I'm going to have to tell someone, which means he will find out sooner or later anyway. "I miss Jowan, that's all. His departure has finally sunk in."

"Ah." He nods in understanding. "You did strike me as far too cheerful for one who has lost someone so dear to her."

"Strange, huh? I don't know why it happened just now." I sigh. "It's been weeks since I dropped him off at the tower." A week or three, four since I've last held him in my arms. Perhaps the little one has been distracting me.

"Oh, I don't know if it really is so strange," Zevran muses. "You are a busy woman, after all. There are the darkspawn, these nuisances on the way, and of course you have your son to care for. Is there really any time for grief between all that?"

"There sure seems to be now," I grumble. "All I know is that talking doesn't solve a thing. After I'd lost Cullen, I talked about it plenty, but the pain never went away."

A pale eyebrow is raised. "Who is this Cullen?" Just as I want to answer that, he continues: "But of course, he must be Collin's father. Is he dead?"

"No, the last time I saw him, he was still alive and gloomy." And reading a smutty novel. I'm still slightly shocked that my steadfast gentleman would be so enthralled by Talia's torrid, explicit affair with, what was his name again? Gary?

"Might I ask what went wrong between you and your templar?" Absently he twirls one of his loosened braids around his finger. "Yours was a forbidden romance, to be sure, but with enough care, it could have lasted."

I scoff. "In case you hadn't noticed, I don't live in Kinloch Hold anymore, while he does. Long distance relationships are easy to fail." I roll my eyes. "Besides, after the shit he was put through, he pretty much told me that he thinks of me as a potential blood mage, or an abomination waiting to happen. Afterwards, he did say he didn't mean it, but I sure can't unhear his words. And that was the end of our ill-considered affair."

"Perhaps it is for the best." The elf nods sagely. "Collin does not need a high-strung, mage-distrusting father figure. Instead, he has a very large and colourful extended family of sorts."

"Yes. With you as the perverted uncle who can't keep his hands off the women."

"Very true!" he chuckles. "Can you blame me, surrounded by beauties as I am?"

I shrug. "I guess not."

"Yours is a face that should not look so sad, _cucciola mia_. Perhaps there is something I could do to make you smile again, hmm?" Smiling seductively, he strokes my face in a sweet, tender manner.

"Coochy... What's that?" Something that sounds so cute, can't possibly be bad. I like Antivan. It's sexy.

The assassin's nimble fingers softly pinch my cheek. "You are a curious little creature, aren't you? I suppose it might be translated as 'my pet', or something along those lines."

"I'm sorry if I gave you false hope, but please don't refer to me as your pet." With a short sigh I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "I am nobody's pet." I don't think anyone has ever even called me that anyway.

"Of course, forgive me." Immediately he seems miles away, all contact between the two of us broken off abruptly. "I was perhaps all too emboldened by what happened this afternoon."

I shake my head. "No, it's my fault. I should never have let you do that."

"Why is that?" He smiles an innocent smile that is belied by a naughty sparkle in his eyes. "Was it not to your liking?"

And suddenly, I'm laughing. "Are you _kidding_? I swear, I've never come like that!" How could I _not_ like such a wonderful treatment? Preposterous!

"So sweet of you to say." Grinning proudly, the Crow snatches my hand out of the water and presses his lips to the back. "I managed to put a smile on your beautiful face once more. My job here is done."

Tightly I hug him. "Thank you, Zev. You're a good guy. A bit of a sleazebag, but a good guy." I actually feel better. There is no use in dwelling on the past, none at all. Jowan is still alive, and he is where he wanted to be. In some ways, things worked out just fine. He told me himself that I shouldn't be sad for him; I should really do that. "Now call me something Antivan again!"

"As you wish, _tesoro_ ," he replies laughingly. "Treasure, literally; darling would correspond with it more."

"That sounds so awesome. Well." I hoist myself up on the bank. Easily. My arms have become much stronger than they used to be. "I should wrap this up before I turn into a prune." Where are my... Oh, super. Another something I forgot. Ah, well. It's not like I will still be going anywhere today. And now: the moment of truth. Will these new robes fit? First the dress. Gasp. Can it be...? Why yes, yes it can. It fits! Zevran, in the meantime, is watching me with great interest.

He nods contently. "That colour does you justice." An appreciative whistle sounds as I pull the stockings on. "Those really have to be the shapeliest legs I have ever seen. And let me assure you that I have seen my share of shapely legs."

"Oh, uhm, thank you." Now why does that make me blush? When he was commenting on how nice he thought my cunny looked, I didn't bat an eyelash. But a compliment about my legs? Someone splash me with cold water, because that is too shocking! The corset fits perfectly too, not tight at all. Kind of a hassle with all these closures though. Fur shrug, cloth arm covers and I am good to go. My vanity is yelling that I should find a mirror, to stare into it for a while. "Do I look as good as I think I do?"

"Better." Leisurely Zev waves me goodbye. "Enjoy your evening, _fiammina_."

"Aw, you too, my sweet little crumpet." I walk back to my tent under a barrage of dismayed protests. If he wants to give me pet names, he can bloody count on it that I will make up a few for him too.


	147. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Withered Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps Morrigan isn't so terrible after all.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Withered Roses

"Astoreth?" Morrigan lets herself into my tent without awaiting a response. "Are you still awake?"

"Dinner was half an hour ago, of course I'm still awake." Since I've retired to my tent, I have been staring sadly at my withered gift from a long time ago. Almost all petals have fallen off. "What do you want?"

The witch clicks her tongue. "You are upset with me, no? Has it anything to do with... What is that pathetic thing that you have in your hand?"

"This _pathetic thing_ ", I put a tone of warning in my voice, "was a gift from Alistair, a beautiful rose when he gave it to me. It stayed fresh for an almost unnaturally long time, but now it's really at its end."

"Its existence as a fair rose may be over, but perhaps it may continue as something else." She eyes the thornless, dried stalk critically. "Do you have any oils?"

Lemon-vanilla blend. Jowan mistaking me for Lily. Forget about it. "I do, yes." The small vial is easily located. "Here. What are you going to do with it?"

"Hmm, 'tis but an idea that has a slight chance at success." Morrigan tips a small amount of oil onto her palm and anoints the rose's stem with it. A careful attempt at bending it; when it doesn't, she adds more oil. Then tries again, then puts on more oil. Rinse and repeat. Finally the oils have penetrated far enough to make the stalk supple and flexible once more. "Ah, there we are. Present me with your wrist, if you will."

"Fine." Obediently I do as she says. What does the woman want from me anyway? If she has found something in her book that requires me to go on another suicide mission, I'm tossing her out of our group. She can find another to do her dirty work.

Frowning in concentration, the girl encircles my wrist with the lemony branch, then spirals the stem around itself. A bracelet. That's bloody brilliant. And it's even pretty, imagine that. She pulls a leather string from a pouch on her belt, with which she secures the shape of the bracelet. "There. Once 'tis desiccated once more, the string should no longer be necessary. As for the petals..." From another pouch on her belt, the witch conjures a tiny glass container. "If you have no qualms with it, I suggest you grind them into dust and keep them in this bottle. A gift given from love has great power."

"It was just a friendly gesture on his side." Wasn't it? He's never showed any real romantic interest in me, until recently. I don't even know if that's romantic interest, or just a curiosity about physical intimacy that I am well-equipped to satisfy.

"If that is what you wish to believe." Morrigan shrugs, chuckling low and throatily. "I wish to thank you for your assistance. 'Tis clear to me that you believe I slighted you when you first handed me the grimoire. For that, I offer you my apologies." Hesitantly she lays a hand on my shoulder.

Now that is better. I smile at her. "Don't worry about it. You're just not very warm-hearted, are you?"

"I fear not, no." Smiling uneasily, she adds: "Being in the company of... _normal_ people, I suppose, has made me less cold than I used to be, if that is of any comfort to you."

"I have noticed that, yes, but it doesn't matter, you are the way you are." I shrug. "We can hardly be called normal anyway. Zevran is a pervert, Sten is so stoic I can hardly say anything about his personality, Wynne is mothering to an almost annoying degree, Alistair possibly has the lowest level of self-esteem I have ever seen, Oghren is a lascivious drunk, Shale is a bird-hating psychopath, Leliana has her theatrical moments, and you are still unaccustomed to our ways. It's fine."

Morrigan laughs in a (for her) hearty manner, covering her mouth with her hand. "And what of you then? What description fits you?"

"Me?" Huh. "Good question, I don't really know. I suppose you might describe me as short-fused and impulsive."

"A temper, you?" Thoughtfully the witch taps her chin. "I would hardly think so, even if you take into account the way you slew that assassin. No, you should be described as warm, kind and patient. A true friend." Suddenly she looks very awkward. "I am aware that I have little talent for forming friendships, to put it lightly. And yet..." Her voice trails off. "When I discovered Flemeth's plans, you did not abandon me. Whatever your reasons, you fought what must have been a terrible battle without hope of real reward. And that is what I do not understand." Her voice is hopelessly puzzled.

I tilt my head to look at her curiously. "Why? I told you that keeping you around is all the reward I need."

"That is exactly what I mean." Her cheeks turn redder under the blusher she wears on them. "The very last of all the things I could have imagined when Flemeth told me to go with you, was finding in you a friend. Perhaps even a sister. I want you to know that while I may not always prove worthy of your friendship, I will always value it." A deep, relieved breath. "And now I must return to my tent, goodnight to you," she quickly rattles off.

"Wait." I stop her exit by holding onto her wrist. "Don't go all awkward on me now. Come here." She allows me to fold her into my embrace, hold her close. "People, well women anyway, will generally hug after a declaration of friendship. And I still haven't thanked you for fashioning a bracelet out of Alistair's rose. So thank you."

Finally she wraps her arms around my waist. "You are most welcome. Do you still believe 'twas merely given out of friendship?" she mumbles into my shoulder. "Do you not see the way that foolish boy looks at you?"

"Yeah, so he likes me." I shrug. "I like him too, I would definitely like to get into his pants, but he is still a virgin! Pure as the driven snow. You can understand my apprehension a little, can't you?"

She releases me and stares into my face incredulously. "No, not at all! Was it not you who said a man like that could be moulded to your every desire? That you, what was it again, that you wanted to eat him up? Surely you have had plenty of chances." Shaking her head, she laughs. "But 'tis Alistair, and he is a fool. You can do better than him, I am sure."

"Er well, I think he can do better than me, honestly." I peek into Collin's bed and run my fingers through his downy hair. He puckers up his lips and blows a spit bubble in his sleep. Awww... "I have another man's child, that has to be a burden."

"This delightful little boy?" Morrigan bends over the potato crate, fondly smiling down on the little one. "He could never be a burden to a soul, I assure you. Alistair is as fond of Collin as you are."

I raise an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, are you advising me against jumping into Al's bedroll, or are you encouraging it?"

"Neither, of course." With a slight chuckle she pats me on the head. "Truly, Astoreth, are you not a grown woman? You have no need of my advice. Now I must really retire for the night; travelling to Redcliffe will doubtlessly require all of my energy."

I nod. "Of course. Sleep well, my friend. Don't pore over that grimoire for too long."

"I shall endeavour to tear myself away from my fascinating reading matter before 'tis too late," she laughs, giving me a friendly kiss on the cheek. "Sleep well." And so the witch backs out of my tent, back to her own.

Now, where are my mortar and pestle? Whether the rose was a gift of friendship or love, preserving the petals in such a way has its symbolic value. And they still smell nice, so... Morrigan is full of good ideas. Ah, here we are.

What's this? Something very special. It holds great meaning. I picked it up without Alistair noticing and was going to give it to him, but in the trepidation about facing Flemeth, I kind of forgot. Well, it's not really going anywhere. Hmm, the petals make a lovely crunching noise as I grind them. Awesome.

"Hi Aster!" What is it with people just letting themselves into my tent? Truly, now I know how these people whose houses I randomly ransack must feel. "Whatcha doooooing?"

"Oh hi Alistair, I'm just crushing some rose petals."

He looks in confusion at the red-grey dust in the mortar. "What kind of poultice is that for?"

"It's not for a poultice. That rose you gave me is too withered to keep, so with Morrigan's help I'm giving it a new lease on life." I show him my wrist. "Look, she made the stem into a bracelet."

Humming thoughtfully, he inspects it closely. "Nice. Very pretty. So you are no longer angry with the evil witch?"

I giggle at the nickname he's assigned her with. "Come on now, she's hardly evil. Call her the wicked witch; it's more accurate, and it alliterates. Fetching, right?"

"Wicked Witch of the Wilds!" he giggles. "That's awesome! I still can't find the one who stole my shoes, by the way."

"That's because you don't have any. But fear not; I have something for you." The gift I found him at Ostagar comes out of the safe confines of my pack.

Trembling fingers touch the silver rim, where some dark blood still sticks. "This... this is the chalice we used at the Joining!" His eyes are wide with surprise, and brimming with tears. "Where did you find it?"

"At Ostagar, where the ritual took place. You were reminiscing with Wynne, so you didn't see it." Carefully I wipe the tears from his face. "I thought you might want to have it. Something to remind you of Duncan, seeing how I have his weapons."

Nodding wordlessly, he takes my hand and kisses the tip of each of my fingers. Every tiny kiss sparks a jolt of electricity that travels through my body, hitting me right in the heart. "Thank you. Whatever did I do to deserve you?" he whispers. Once again his beautiful eyes are shining with sadness. Sadness and affection.

"Uhm, I don't know, were you really naughty during your time in the Chantry?" Deflecting with humour. That used to be Alistair's thing. Now he's begun to swear, and I've started using poor humour in intimate situations. "There is no need for you to feel so grateful toward me. I'm not doing anything for you."

"Balderdash!" he exclaims with unexpected vehemence. "You have done more for me than you know. At least you try. You don't ridicule me like almost all the others, or mother over me like Wynne does. You treat me like an equal, and that's really all I want."

So sad. A face as handsome as this should always smile. Softly I run my fingers along his lips. "You are easy to please, then. I consider you my equal, my brother-in-arms." His cheeks colour pink under my caressing fingers. "Just believe in yourself, will you? That is really your only flaw."

"Aster..." A lone tear trickles down his cheek. "Can I stay here with you? I'm really not feeling very well at the moment." He sniffles sadly.

"Of course, I'm here whenever you need me. Just undress and crawl into my bedroll. I promise I won't look." It will be a little tight in this small tent with all of us here, but we'll manage. As soon as he makes to take off his shirt, I turn my back and continue my grinding job. Even with the rose having been so voluminous, all the crimson petals crushed together only yield a small amount of fragrant dust. I tip it into the tiny bottle and cork it. It looks pretty and special. Perhaps I could have a metal stop with a ring made for it, so I can wear it on a necklace.

Alistair makes a few rustling noises. "I'm done." Only his head is poking out of the covers, the Joining chalice resting close by him.

"Good, make room for me." No need for me to undress. The first thing I did after dinner, was change into my nightgown. The new robes may fit well, but they could stand to be a little more comfy. Heh, I have no choice but to lie very, very close to Alistair's warm, almost naked body. "Will you be able to sleep, or should I brew you some sleepy time tea?"

"No, I hardly ever have trouble sleeping, but thank you for the offer." He cradles me close to his chest, presses a kiss to my brow. "Goodnight, Aster."

I blow out my lamp, enveloping the small space in darkness. "Goodnight."


	148. Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Little Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroine can't sleep, so she decides to take a walk.

### Return to Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds - Little Flame

I can't sleep. Even Alistair, who usually sleeps like a log, is tossing and turning. He bloody stole the blanket and there is no way for me to get it back. He's like Stubbs with a bone. Seriously, he growls in his sleep whenever I try to grab the blanket. I'm so cold. And ridiculously horny. Would you just look at him? All sweetness in a gorgeous package. I swear, if I weren't a mage who needs to control herself all the bloody time anyway, his virginity would have been torn to shreds ages ago.

Damn you, Zevran. I keep thinking of what we did this afternoon. He really knows how to pleasure a woman, let me tell you. Amazing. I think I should go out for a walk. Clear my head, try to become a little more tired. I'll do that. When we return to Denerim, I'm getting myself a cloak. I don't feel like getting dressed one bit, so I won't. The cold will distract my heated body, won't it?

Oh, for the love of... It's cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass donkey. I don't know how Stubbs does it, sleeping outside without trouble. He opens one sleepy eye when I scratch him between the ears, wags his tail and then goes back to sleep. How cute. He looks very fierce with his new collar. My wonderful puppy.

Footsteps of the one patrolling the camp reach my ears, the occasional snapping of a twig under heavy boots. Belching. "Asschabs!" That's Oghren. What are _asschabs_? Yeah, I don't really want to know, actually.

The other half of the watch party is sitting by the fire, quietly caring for his Asala. "Warden." A look of curiosity briefly flashes in his violet eyes at my approach. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"I couldn't sleep and I didn't feel like putting my robes on." I sit myself next to him on the log. "Next mission I'm taking you along."

"So the message did come across." Sten nods contently, running a soft cloth along the length of his blade. "You are not as slow as you sometimes make yourself out to be then."

I sigh. "Thank you _so_ much for that." Still convinced I'm not fit to do my job.

"You're welcome." Carefully he puts Asala back in her scabbard.

No matter how comfortable it is by the fire, I keep getting unnerved by the way the Qunari sometimes steals glances at me without saying a word. What on earth does he want? Is it really so difficult to just open your mouth and let words come out? "Do you have something on your mind, Sten?"

His eerily unwavering gaze fixes on my face. "Are you fit to lead? So far I have seen no signs that the blood mage's departure troubles you, _kadan_ , but with you women, one can never be sure."

"Aw, so you _do_ care about me," I gush, fully aware that this may annoy him. If I didn't think pinching the man's cheeks would earn me a pair of stumps where my hands used to be, I'd do it. "Suffice it to say that I have been troubled slightly, but now I'm fine again. Fit to lead as always. Alistair even let me practise my swordplay skills on him."

"What swordplay skills?" The giant scoffs. "Peeling potatoes in a very awkward manner? Mages cannot handle a sword, no matter how hard they may try."

A challenge. One I should rise to when I'm well-rested, and not in my nightclothes. "Believe what you will." I get back on my feet; Andraste's ankles, I miss the fire's warmth already. "A good night to you." Not even a response. No manners, humph. I don't think Sten and I will ever be good buddies. What a tragedy. Perhaps I shall cry myself to sleep tonight.

Ah... There is still a light on in the pretty elf's tent. I do wonder what he is doing. Fuck, just thinking about the way his tongue was playing with my clit nearly makes me explode. And I've not even done anything in return. How rude of me. He has been so kind, very sweet even, and I have hardly showed him any appreciation. This should be remedied. "Hey, Zev, may I come in?"

"Yes, of course," comes from inside.

"Thank you." I enter, and the first thing I see is the Crow mixing some liquids together from several vials and bottles. For some reason he is shirtless, but wearing gloves. "That makes no sense at all. Why are you wearing gloves, but no shirt?" Not that I'm complaining.

He doesn't take his eyes off his work. "This poison is highly corrosive. Our fine dwarven friend passed by here, belched particularly loudly and broke my concentration. I spilled some drops on my shirt; I got it off just in time to keep my skin intact."

"That is a relief." I would hate for this caramel beauty to be ruined by unsightly acid burns. Hmm, well-defined musculature, elaborate tattoos that only make him sexier. I approve. "What are you still doing up at this unholy hour, by the way?"

"Just a moment." He finishes his labour by throwing a pinch of what looks like dried deathroot leaves into his mixture and swirling it around. The unfortunate plant matter dissolves bubbling, exuding a pungent smoke. Finally the virulently green poison goes into a round, thin-necked bottle that is securely closed. "There." He handles the bottle with the utmost care, until it is safely stored. Then Zev pulls off his gloves, carelessly tossing them away. "Well, what can I say? I couldn't keep a certain lovely lady from my mind, so I thought I should make myself useful." One of his typical smirks follows.

"Oh?" I settle close to him, folding my legs under me. "Tell me about her."

His smirk turns into a smile, his honey eyes light up. "Ah, she has the loveliest dark doe eyes, that one. Voluptuous lips, a cute little nose..." Leaning in closer, he pecks me on the nose. "An exotic beauty. Divine legs, too."

"Heh, are you talking about me?" Hearing him speak like this makes me feel proud of myself. Exotic though? That is a first. Maybe I really am beautiful. Or, and that might be more likely, he just wants to get into my panties. Still, I love compliments. And I love those pointy ears. I think I should play with them. "Do you like me that much?"

"Of course I am talking about you!" He chuckles, rolling his eyes. "And if I did not like you, I would have gone nowhere near your lady flower."

Lady flower. Classy. My tongue touches the tip of his ear and he shudders. "Your ears are sensitive, aren't they?" The surprised moan caused by me nibbling on the cute pointy thing pretty much answers my question. Gently I push him down until we're lying on his bedroll, with me on top. The warmth of his body burns through my nightgown. "I wanted to thank you for blowing my mind," I whisper into his ear. "You were amazing, Zev." Softly blowing into his ear and eliciting another groan, my fingers stroke his side. Delightfully soft skin. "But do you know what I would really, really like right now?"

"I do have somewhat of an inkling," he murmurs hoarsely as I rub my hip against his groin.

"You think I want to fuck you, don't you?" Slowly I run my tongue along the shell of his ear, then down the side of his neck. "That, however, is not what I'm after. Call me crazy, but I'm just longing to have a good helping of cock in my mouth." Even lower I go, showering his beautifully adorned pectoral muscles with licks and kisses.

A low chuckle reverberates in his chest. "I am fully at your disposal." His voice is deep and raspy with arousal.

"That is good to know." I look up at him and wink. "Not that you would be able to stop me anyway." Hmmm, such gorgeous abs he has. Wonderful. I trace every outline with my lips and tongue, hands already wrestling with the laces on his pants. Finally I just tear them off; I have plenty of laces lying around and I don't want to waste my time on these. He protests, but whatever. Do I care? Nope.

I rub my cheek against his erection through the silky fabric of his smallclothes. Can't wait to see what his cock looks like, but first... Still keeping the garment on, my index finger traces the entire length. A good size, I think. A tortured whimper issues forth from the assassin's lips as I rub my thumb along the tip. Enough playing around.

I plant a kiss on his navel, taking my mouth lower and lower while I peel off his smalls. Released from its confines, the rigid organ hits me in the chin. "Well, greetings to you too, ser."

"Forgive me my enthusiasm," Zevran laughs softly. "It has been too long."

"Hmm, I know what you mean." Would you look at this thing? It's as attractive as the rest of him. I could devote an ode in twenty quatrains to his lovely-looking cream stick, but really, I have better things to do. A weak feeling comes up in my tummy as soon as I taste his pre-cum. Oh, how I've missed this: a man moaning under my ministrations, a nice stiff one in my mouth. My private parts are throbbing with want. All at the same time I carefully suck on the head, rub my hand along his shaft and tease my clit. This is making me so incredibly wet.

The naughty elf pulls my hand away. "Are you touching yourself, _fiammina_?" he asks in a throaty whisper. My wet fingers end up in his mouth, where he eagerly sucks on them. "Allow me to help. Position yourself over my face so that I may pleasure you once more."

"No, I want to do _this_." I pull my hand from his grasp and return it to its old position.

"Nobody said that one excludes the other," he coos. "Get your plump behind over here and let me taste you."

Oh yes, of course. If I position myself over him backwards, we could pleasure one another at the same time. That is genius. Never taking my mouth off him, I plant my knees on either side of his head. Both hands free to do what I please. Promptly two hands grab my butt. My panties are pushed aside, and two fingers thrust into me. This time he just moves them in a fierce pumping motion. His tongue taps against my button; all of a sudden it's very hard to concentrate on what I'm doing. But my will is strong(-ish) and I will not falter.

I bob my head up and down his erection, tongue wrapped around it, stroking what I can't fit into my mouth with my hand. With the other hand, I carefully massage his balls. So delicate, these little things. Ever since his nimble tongue began torturing me, I've been close to coming. Un-bloody-bearable. And yet so fan-fucking-tastic. My hips are making grinding motions without me even trying, only making the sensations more pleasurable. It's that my mouth and hands are so accustomed to these acts, or I'd just be lying here, enjoying myself. I would hate to be so selfish.

One of his fingers slips out; the pleasure numbs down. I could just about cry with frustration, but then a slick digit slides into a place nobody has been bold enough to go before. His fingers move at the same pace. A divine feeling, both orifices being filled this way. The pressure in my centre returns full force and unleashes itself almost immediately. I utter a series of muffled moans into the assassin's hard-on, rubbing myself up into his face. The pleasure is so great I'm seeing stars and flashes of light behind my eyelids.

Whew. I fully intend to repay him for this favour. With renewed enthusiasm I attack his cock, devour it until the tip hits the back of my mouth. Sucking it as hard as I can. A subdued moan is sent into my flesh, delicate fingers digging into my behind. A barely perceivable throbbing has set into the wonderful organ. I am on the right track. As my tongue caresses Zev's rod, the throbbing becomes more vehement. Before long, his entire body becomes as tight as a bowstring, a stifled scream sounds and he erupts in my mouth. Sticky and salty. Mmm... He shivers while I dip my tongue into every nook and cranny to get all of his cream. A job well done, I think.

When I make to get off him, he holds me back. "Wait." His tongue languorously licks between my lips, fingers still moving very slowly. "Let me get just a little more..."

Sure, if that's what he wants. I neatly tuck back his equipment; I even manage to close his pants again with the torn laces. "I have to say, Zev, you really weren't lying when you said you could do things with your tongue that would blow my mind."

"I rarely lie, my dear lady." This time he allows me to clamber off him. Grinning smugly, he folds his hands behind his head. "Saucy little minx. Who would have thought that _you_ would seduce me?"

"I'm full of surprises, remember?" I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. Sleepy. "So tell me, what does fee-uhm-me-nah mean?"

Laughingly, the elf pulls me into his arms. "I thought you would never ask! Little flame. It is not commonly used as an endearment, but for a fiery woman like you, it seems tailor-made."

"Heh, yeah, I suppose it does." Little flame. How cute. "So... You must have a history with women. And men too, huh? I'm just fascinated by that."

"You are a better person than most, _fiammina_." His fingers run through my hair. "My only rule is that sex is best when done well."

I chuckle, stroking his bare side with my hand. "Well, that sounds like a great rule to me."

"So, then." Suddenly his tone is serious. "As the priestess so famously said to the handsome actor: What now?"

The inevitable question. Awkward. I sit up and look down on his handsome face. "Ah... The thing is, I would rather not bind myself to a man anymore. And I know that you wouldn't ask that of me anyway, but chances are that this was a one-time thing. I'm sorry." Sigh. "I just don't want to fall in love again, and knowing me, that is bound to happen if I keep on sneaking into your tent. I hope you can understand."

He nods gravely, a lightly wounded look in his amber eyes. "I certainly do, and I appreciate your honesty. I shall treasure this then, and be satisfied that this is all it may be." His hand reaches up to caress my cheek. "But know that if you have need of some... companionship once more, my door is always open to you."

"Thank you, Zevran; I appreciate it." With a soft kiss on the palm of his hand, I add: "Sweet dreams then, handsome."

Sleepily he bids me the same, and covers himself with the blankets before I head out of his tent. On the way to my own, not even the biting cold can make me less satisfied and sleepy. I feel sated, my itch has been scratched. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this new notch on the bedpost - sort of, anyway - ends this episode of the Warden's adventures. Tune in for more at a later unspecified date. Or maybe it'll already be there by the time you see this. Who knows?


	149. Return to Redcliffe - Tired But Unable to Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back on the road to Redcliffe yet again, our heroine has trouble sleeping. Yet again.

### Return to Redcliffe - Tired But Unable to Sleep

And back to Redcliffe yet again. I swear, it would be so much more efficient to send a messenger to Arl Eamon and go on to Denerim, but he specifically said he wanted us to tell him ourselves when we had all of our treaties covered. Ridiculous. Still, we need the arl's help on this. Without him, we don't have a leg to stand on during the Landsmeet.

We passed Lothering on the way. It's no longer recognizable as such. Black with darkspawn decay, nothing but death all around. Sometimes I wonder whether we could have done more for the people there, but I highly doubt that. Alistair and I are still outlaws; why would they believe in a couple of Grey Wardens, accused of getting the king and their own killed? Lothering was lost from the very start.

The last time we travelled to Redcliffe from there, it took us give or take four days. It's been five now, and we are still about a day's travel removed from Redcliffe. Sometimes it even feels as though we are trying to move through honey and time slows to a crawl. Very strange, that. Something in the air, perhaps. Another joke of the Maker. But whatever the case may be, Collin has been fed, bathed and tucked in, and my own bedroll is beckoning me for a good long night of sleep. Now let's hope I will not be plagued by unchaste thoughts of Alistair. Or memories of Zevran's amazing abilities. Oh boy.

~*|'-'|*~

" _Kadan_." Sten, business as usual, doesn't even look up from his beloved blade as I join him by the fire. I hate being tired, but unable to sleep. Now the Qunari does look at me, and oddly enough he looks surprised, taken aback. "Again you must tempt me by showing up in your sleepwear," he growls. "As if parading around in revealing robes wasn't tempting enough."

Say what? Did he just... Nah. Can't be. That's just my horny brain making stuff up. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"You heard me." His voice sounds slightly choked. The giant rises to his feet, staring down on me with a strange fire burning in his eyes. "I may have told the swamp witch that I have no interest in such a small thing as she is, but you are an entirely different case."

"I... I, uhm..." I can't believe it. Not at all. "Why me? Am I not an even smaller thing than she is?" Might as well play along.

"In length perhaps, but you, Warden, are far sturdier." His stern eyes slowly scan the length of my body. "Stronger, more suitable for breeding."

 _Breeding_? "Er, I don't know if..."

Sten makes a sound I've never heard him make before. Laughing? Seriously? "You don't know if _what_ , Warden? You don't know if you can resist me, perhaps." Effortlessly he picks me up from my seat, holding me around my upper arms. "For such a small human, you are exceptionally strong," he murmurs before capturing my lips with his own. I never expected a simple kiss to feel this enjoyable, but I melt under his touch. His lips feel so warm, soft and pliant.

"Sten, this is insane," I hoarsely whisper as soon as he breaks the contact. He would never show such interest in me; he even thinks I'm stupid. What _is_ this?

" _Parshaara_ , Warden, no more words." His mouth moves down my jaw to my neck, administering soft kisses as he goes.

I might as well enjoy it, weird as this may seem. "I... I heard you telling Morrigan about requiring armour for..." A long-drawn moan escapes me as he nibbles on the spot in my neck that drives me crazy. "Er, you said that the Qunari act was unpleasant, is... is that true?" I wrap my legs around his waist so they don't dangle about uselessly, drape my arms around his massive neck. "Or were you just trying to dissuade her from pursuing you?"

"The witch was getting annoying," the Qunari replies matter-of-factly. "I wanted her to cease the blatant attempts at seduction." No longer required to hold me up by the arms, his large hand cups my breast; his thumb strokes along the nipple, eliciting another moan from me. "You don't require armour for this, or a hot iron to get my attention." My nightgown slips down my shoulders. "You already have my attention, Warden." His free hand glides down the curve of my bum and squeezes. Right after that I hear an approving grunt in my ear.

Oh my, I can feel how much he approves. What I assume can only be his rock-hard cock is pressing against my gut. And that thing feels as if it's proportionately enormous. "I don't know if this is a good idea." I will be cloven in two!

A loud ripping noise, and my gown hangs fully open. "I will be careful." Gently he lowers me to the ground, my head resting on the log where I was previously seated. The cool night air is making my nipples even harder than they already are. My panties undergo the same cruel fate as the other garment and everything is thoughtlessly discarded. The Qunari parts my legs; intently he studies the area in between. "This looks delicate. And small. You will need sufficient preparation before you can accommodate me."

All I can do is... nothing. I can't even speak. Everything happens in a haze. This is too strange. Sten rubs his finger between my lips, and it comes away glistening. I'm dripping wet with anticipation. True fear at what might happen to me causes me to break into a cold sweat. His thick finger slips into me, slowly, agonizingly slowly. My breathing picks up, and my heart beats so quickly it will vibrate out of my chest soon. This feels like the first time I slept with Cullen. Granted, this finger isn't nearly as big as the templar's cock, but it is certainly fulfilling. I moan loudly and without shame at the delightful stimulation; his finger moves in and out at a steady pace. "You are tight, _kadan_ , but I will get you stretched out soon enough."

"Sten..." Ah, I have found my voice again. "May I touch you?" My fingers curl around the waistband of his trousers.

"Feel free," he mutters, just before bending down and catching my nipple between his teeth. One finger becomes two, the pumping motion more intense. I feel just as full as I would with an actual penis in me. A low groan tumbles from the Qunari's lips when I stick my hand down his pants. Holy... There is no end to him. And I can't even close my hand around it. Suddenly the movements of his fingers hurt. "Try to relax, Warden, you are nearly amputating my fingers. There is no need for fear. We have the entire night, if need be."

I take a deep breath. The slight pain abates slowly but surely. You would think that with Collin's birth having been quite a few weeks ago, I would be healed but still wide enough to make this easy. Not so. But then his fingers curl into a position I am familiar with, even if I have felt it only once. His thumb busies itself with rubbing my clit in a most delicious manner. In mere seconds my back arches off the ground while I scream loud enough to wake the dead. My loins are on fire, my brain is melting. Apparently, so is my cunny, judging from the amount of hot fluid coming out of it. Everything is blurry when I open my eyes again. The fingers move in and out of me with far more ease than they did before. My own fingers are buried deep in the earth I am lying on.

"There." The warrior's voice sounds satisfied. "You have become supple enough." He retreats from me, unceremoniously wipes his wet hand on his pants. That does seem like something Sten would do. Forthwith he takes off his shirt, revealing his spectacularly muscled upper body. His trousers quickly follow suit; I nearly swallow my tongue at the sight of him. His cock is pretty much as long as my forearm, but thankfully not as thick. Although not by much. My legs snap shut out of sheer terror.

Clicking his tongue, Sten lays a hand upon my knee. "I told you before, _kadan_ , I will be careful. Trust me." His surprisingly gentle hands make long strokes along my thighs, gradually easing them apart. Finally I am spread wide open to him. "I guarantee that you will feel nothing but pleasure," the man whispers, while rubbing the tip of his fearsome tool against my entrance. With one hand on my hip and the other around the base of his erection, he pushes the head inside.

"Ow!" I whimper like a whipped dog, a single tear escapes my eye. That hurts. "There then, your guarantee is already void."

"My apologies." Softly his fingers caress along the length of my abdomen. "Perhaps..." He falls silent, his Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows. "Perhaps touching yourself might prove to be a useful distraction."

I can't help but laugh at that. "Touching myself?" Giant rascal just wants some eye candy. "Like this?" I cup my breasts and tease my nipples. The corners of my mouth curl up automatically as Sten's violet eyes glaze over with an expression of lust. My right hand glides down my belly to end its journey just above the spot where his impressive cock is partially buried in me. Well, what do you know; it does work as a distraction. Upon touching my button, a shudder passes through my body. I close my eyes and focus on rubbing my clit. The breast thing is just there for show. No more pain, only pleasure. Jolts of it shoot into my underbelly with every stroke. It feels as if I am being filled as far as I can take.

"You are a sight to behold." His normally so blank voice is almost ecstatic. "Your muscles are pulling together so tightly, I may be pushed out at any moment. Your strength never ceases to amaze me." His tone smacks suspiciously of adoration.

And just like that, I'm done. While I mewl away in climactic bliss, the giant makes it even worse by thrusting into me. Hard and fast. As if he reads my mind. My mewling soon turns to screaming as he intensifies his ministrations. Every thrust sends mad pleasure coursing through every fibre of my being. My fingers claw at the earth, his laboured grunts mingle with my shameless screams. All of a sudden something cold and wet pokes into my cheek.

As soon as I open my eyes, I see Stubbs panting down on me. "Mating with the giant?" he says incredulously, his accent extremely posh for a dog. "Dear woman, you are _insane_!"

~*|'-'|*~

Behold, the drab interior of my tent! Yep, I did fall asleep after all. My breathing is laboured and my hand is between my legs. Well, now that it's there anyway... I stroke myself to a quick, but vehement orgasm, with the events in my dream playing behind my eyelids. Ah, ready for sleep once more. This has to be by far the weirdest dream I have ever had. And Stubbs talking like a stuck-up nobleman wasn't even the strangest part. Sten. He wouldn't touch me with a ten foot pole, let alone his own pole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotcha, didn't I?


	150. Return to Redcliffe - Prissy Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth has words with Isolde.

### Return to Redcliffe - Prissy Bitch

Finally we have arrived in Redcliffe Castle. I seriously pray that Arl Eamon won't immediately feel like setting out to Denerim. Every muscle in my body is clamouring for one of those fluffy beds. And some good wholesome celebratory food. Don't we deserve that after all this? _I_ certainly think we do.

In the courtyard some soldiers are training, and apparently the Dalish have found their way here as well. They seem a little uncomfortable, surrounded by all this stone. Some heavily armoured dwarves are also present. Only three of them, that's not a whole lot. Most of the Orzammar forces must still be on the road.

Inside, Arl Eamon appears to be awaiting us already. "I understand you've acquired all the allies you could? That's good... we can call the Landsmeet, if you are ready." Bann Teagan is standing behind his brother, his face grave. He doesn't say anything.

"If I am perfectly honest, my lord, I'm not ready." Awkwardly I fold my arms around Collin, resting against my chest. The baby eyes me curiously. "If the nobles don't speak against _Regent_ Loghain, Alistair and I will have our heads laid on the block faster than you can say, "What are you going to do with that axe?" So, first I would like to spend one final comfortable night in your glorious castle."

The arl strokes his neatly groomed beard, then smiles. "I would prefer not giving Loghain time to consider, but of course you are right." He nods gravely. "It will take time for the news to spread, and I can use the interim to get my forces organized. Please tell me when you wish to leave. Until then, you have the run of Redcliffe." And so the man leaves us to our own devices, as does his brother. Their conversation mostly concerns the soldiers and their drills. Well, I'm glad I didn't get snapped at for wanting to delay the trip to Denerim. I briefly toyed with the idea of going to the Circle one last time, to keep my promise to Jowan. To see how Cullen is doing. Instead, I'm going to be optimistic and assume that I will survive the Landsmeet and the archdemon. I can visit them then.

Isolde, who was standing next to her husband like a good wife, looks at me. "You must be tired; I shall have my servants prepare you all a room." Upon clapping her hands, a few servants promptly appear, and lead my companions away. Shale gets quite a few funny looks from them. Stubbs and Alistair opt to stay by my side.

"May I..." Isolde shyly points to Collin. "May I hold this delightful child?"

"Er..." Oh, why not? It's not like she'll immediately ship him off to the Chantry. "Go ahead." Carefully I take the little one out of his scarf and hand him to the arlessa. As soon as he is in her arms, Stubbs growls barely audibly. A calming pat on the head, and the mabari ceases his hostile behaviour. The treat that came out of my pocket might have something to do with that as well.

Isolde neatly supports Collin's head on her arm. The little boy looks up at her silently. He just stares, not even a hint of a smile on his face. Then his eyebrows furrow, his hands clench into tiny fists. Oh ho ho! Aren't we a good judge of character? My son doesn't like her. Thankfully he's too well-behaved to start crying and wailing. Isolde meanwhile, is blissfully unaware as she runs her finger along his plump cheeks, cooing nonsense. "Oh, such a beautiful boy you are. He is a boy, isn't he?" She smiles brightly when I nod. "Is he yours, Warden? He has a few of your... features." Her disdainful eyes fix on my nose. Fucking bitch. Suddenly the atmosphere in the room is tense. Thick enough to cut with a knife.

Now I know I could shriek loud enough to put even this harpy to shame, but I won't. Surely I am better than that, so I conjure a kind smile. "You are right, of course. He does a look a little like me."

"And are you the father?" the conniving wench asks Alistair, her gentle tone suddenly sharp. "I should have known you would do..." Collin breaks the tension by bursting into tears. Out of fright, probably, the arlessa nearly drops him.

My fellow Warden immediately takes him away from her. Soothingly patting Collin's back, he whispers reassuring words until he calms down. "No, _milady_ , this is not my child." Heh, I'm sure he would have said 'evil trollop' in much the same tone as 'milady'.

"Perhaps you would like to think things through before you start flinging around random accusations, Arlessa Isolde," I add. The bloody nerve. I would punch her in the teeth, but that is so unladylike.

"You are right; I was all too rash," she replies in a sugary sweet voice. "Please forgive me."

Alistair, easy to please as always, nods. "Don't worry about it."

"I am most glad you will not hold this against me." The arlessa has a sweet smile on her face, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Now, Warden, I do wonder... With this Blight on our heels, do you have enough time to care for your son?" The sparkle in her eye speaks of avarice. "Very soon, my Connor will leave for the Circle of Magi. Magic has deprived me of my only son, caused such mayhem in our beautiful town." She sighs dramatically. "You do not wish to put your child in danger, do you? You would do well to allow me to take care of him while you are off to war," she coos, the expression on her face and the sound of her voice sweeter than sugared honey, mixed with sweetened syrup. _Gag_.

I pretty much knew what she was getting at, and hearing it mentioned so explicitly fucking makes my blood boil. "What, so when I return to take him home, I hear you have tired of him and thrown him into the clutches of the Chantry?"

"P-pardon?" Her face slowly colours red. Yes lady, _I'm onto you_. "I do not..."

I take her shoulder into an iron grip. So delicate, these little bones here. Too much pressure, and they will snap. Isolde seems to think that feminine frailty is a good thing; I can only disagree. The woman winces when I squeeze her shoulder. "Don't think I don't know what you did to Alistair. Your actions made his life miserable," I hiss into her ear; loud enough for her to hear, but not loud enough for anyone else. _The arlessa despised me._ "And now you think that I will submit my boy to you?" _She made sure the castle wasn't a home to me; off I was packed to the nearest monastery at age ten._ My fingers dig deeper into the noblewoman's tender flesh, making her whimper barely audibly. "Woman, you are going on your knees to beg for my friend's forgiveness, or I will take your pretty ears, pull them way back and tie them behind your head in a neat little bow."

The arlessa gasps in indignation and stares at me in shock. "You would not dare!"

"Try me." I pop my knuckles with a few sickening cracks, making her flinch. "Go ahead. Make my day."

The shocked look in her eyes turns into one of sheer terror. Abruptly she turns away from me and clearing her throat asks meekly: "Alistair, might I have a word with you in private?"

"Uhm, okay." With a sidelong, half-worried glance at me, he hands Collin back. "I will see you later then, Aster."

"Yes, later." I watch as the two walk away for their talk. If he doesn't tell me afterwards that she begged for him to forgive her for marking him for the rest of his life, well, Maker help me, I _will_ tie her ears into a bow behind her head. Who knows, it might suit the prissy bitch.


	151. Return to Redcliffe - Food, Food, Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody is left wanting more, Astoreth finds an interesting book and Bann Teagan does something. Or rather doesn't.

### Return to Redcliffe - Food, Food, Food

That was by far the best meal I've ever had. We didn't all sit together and enjoy a big feast; instead, food was brought to our rooms. I was even offered a choice on what I wanted to have. Such luxury... In camp, there are always two options: take it, or leave it. Anyway, I had soup first, then a meat dish with mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables. The portions are far daintier than I'm used to. The soup wasn't a chunky stew-like soup, no. It was a small bowl of clear chicken broth, tiny slivers of carrot floating in it. Delicious, don't get me wrong, but that could never fill the bottomless pit I call a stomach.

So I thought, the main course should certainly satisfy. The serving girl called it a _filet mignon_ , wrapped with bacon and pan-fried until slightly pink in the middle. What on Thedas does _filet mignon_ mean anyway, microscopic piece of beef or something? Silly Orlesians. The dish came on an enormous white plate. The mashed potatoes were nothing but a tantalizingly tasty smudge in the middle, upon which the meat was placed. Three stalks of asparagus were artistically perched on top. My taste buds had an amazing orgasmic experience and are fully satisfied. That's all that has been satisfied. My stomach is screaming for food so loudly I think it's keeping Collin awake. Every time he seems to nod off, my stomach growls, he looks at it and starts laughing. There we go again. "It's not funny, Collin."

"Nyah!" He grins, showing off his gums. When do babies grow their teeth? His little fingers poke into my belly, which promptly makes another noise. Another giggling fit. Stubbs, who has settled on the rug before the fireplace, grunts in his sleep. His ears twitch briefly.

"Oh, amused by this, are you?" I tweak at his nose, making him laugh even harder. "You are my precious little happy pumpkin, yes you are. Who is my precious angel?" Upon his insistent pulling, I undo the necessary clasps on my robes. They could have been more convenient, but hey, how many nursing mages could there possibly be? Contently the little one suckles at my breast. Still attached to it, his eyes fall shut. His little mouth falls open. His breathing becomes slower. Finally he is asleep. The power of boobs, ladies and gentlemen. You may applaud now.

With the utmost care I manage to lay the baby in his bed and not wake him. Another pang of hunger stabs into my guts, but this time Collin is too far gone to be awakened by the accompanying sound. My dog raises his ears, staring at me curiously. "Stubbs, will you do something for me?" I whisper. He gives an inquisitive whine. "Will you watch Collin for me? I really need to find some proper food." Smart creature that he is, the mabari barks ever so softly and pads over to Collin's bed. Vigilantly he begins watching over the baby, his massive head hanging over the edge. "Thanks, you're the best. I'll see if I can find you a snack too, okay?" This is greeted by a furiously wagging tail. Not even _his_ food was up to par, I think.

~*|'-'|*~

It's not so late yet. On the way to the kitchen, I might as well look around some more. This place is vast. Most of these rooms probably don't get used all that often. What a waste. Some are still stained with blood; I've heard a servant-girl complain about how it would take ages to get the castle back into its old shape. Gasp! So. Many. Books. This might just be my favourite room in all of this entire castle, yes indeed. Hey, a copy of _On dragonlings and their creation_ , neat... Mostly novels, a few reference books on Ferelden and other nations of Thedas. What. Is. This. A bright red cover adorns this thin, small book. And the title? _Amorous Adventures of the Lascivious Lord Stiffington_. That... sounds awesome. I must read it. Can't believe I'm saying this, but food can wait.

Treasure in hand, I settle at the large table in the middle of the room. Its top is strewn with various books, some opened, some closed. Well, let's see what manner of things Lord Stiffington gets up to.

_There I was, a lad of barely ten years old, when I was introduced to the wonderful world of sex. One morning I ventured into the backyard of my parents' mansion in search of a toy I had left there, when a chorus of feminine moans and manly grunts issued forth from behind the juniper bush. Curious as to the source of the noises, I silently crept closer and peered through the leaves and branches._

_Lo and behold! The cook and my mother's maidservant were engaged in an activity I had never witnessed before. Their uniforms were scattered in the grass, the man lying atop the woman. What is this large red eel protruding from below the cook's belly, I wondered, and how does it disappear whenever he lies completely atop the maid? Why is she screaming like that, does it hurt? Are they trying to kill the eel by crushing it between their bodies? I watched the scene until the red eel fully appeared again and spew out some kind of pearly fluid onto the maidservant's quivering belly. This was accompanied by a guttural grunt from the cook._

Whoa. This is awesome and kind of sick at the same time. At least it's original.

_Of course I had no idea that what I had just witnessed was sexual intercourse, yet it awakened something in me. I noticed how my wee-wee became very hard (much like it often did at random, but somehow this felt different). A strange, but not unpleasant feeling came up in my tummy. My skin became moist with perspiration. That night I asked my nanny about what I had witnessed between the cook and maid, about the red eel, the noises they made, the liquid the eel threw up. The nanny became very quiet. She simply smiled, telling me not to worry about such things until I would be older. With that, she kissed me goodnight and left my room._

_A few days later I found out why nanny was reluctant to say anything. This time it wasn't just the maid and the cook in the backyard. Nanny was there too. Cook was on his back, with the maid straddling his loins and nanny sitting on his face. The two women were touching each other and kissing. I was fascinated by the sight. For a very long time the three were absorbed in their fascinating activities; that was the first time I ventured to touch myself. My little hand stroked the front of my knickerbockers, my breathing became laboured, my-..._

"My lady?"

"Huh, what, what?" Startled, I look up. My cheeks feel like they're burning. Bann Teagan smiles down on me, looking trim as ever in his fancy gear. "Oh, greetings, my lord."

"I hope I've not interrupted you in any way," the man practically purrs as he bends down to seize my hand and press a kiss upon it. I have to revise my opinion of him. He _is_ sexy. The first time I was just blinded by thoughts of Cullen. "You look positively radiant, my dear."

"Thank you. They say it's a common trait in new mothers." I sweetly smile up at him, my hand covering the book I was reading. A child voyeur, imagine that. Some perverts are born into it early. Let's hope Teagan doesn't ask me about my reading matter.

The bann's eyes briefly narrow before he conjures a jovial grin. "Ah, yes, my congratulations, your child looks very healthy. Alistair is a lucky man."

"Alistair's not the father." Why does everyone simply assume he and I are a couple? We don't really do that public display of affection stuff anymore, and I've kissed him once. Just _once_. Gah!

"Jowan then?" he ventures, his voice puzzled.

Chuckling quietly, I shake my head. "Frankly, my lord, Collin's father isn't something I like to discuss very often, or at all." I hope that's tactful and yet obvious enough.

"Of course, forgive me the intrusion." Teagan bows graciously. "I shall no longer bother you, then." And he walks away. I wouldn't mind if he'd just sweep all books off the table, lay me on it and have his wicked way with me, honestly. Ah, my itch needs scratching again. That idiotically sexy dream about Sten, of all people, was already a good indication.

"Just a moment." Risen from my chair, I grab a hold of the man's wrist. "If I offended you in any way, I apologize. It was not my intention at all."

He shoots me a grateful look. "Actually, I was under the impression that I had offended _you_."

"Me? Never! I have a very thick skin." My lips curl into a wide grin. I have to be thick-skinned, if I'm not to go berserk at Isolde's underhanded comments.

"Good, then I trust this won't offend you either." With the speed of lightning Teagan boldly presses me against a bookcase, burying his face in my neck and inhaling deeply. "You intrigue me, Warden," he whispers into my ear. His voice is low and throaty. Goodness me. I really need to get laid. Right now, if possible. "Good evening." The bann leaves me, and I let him. Very well then. No filthy library sex for me, it seems. Pity. Ah well, I suppose I've had plenty of that with Cullen. Heh. Good times.

Food, food, food, food. These amorous adventures are coming with me though. Riveting, and maybe I can give it to Cullen when I return to the Circle for one last time. I'm sure he'll enjoy this. Yes, I know it's not mine, but the book still looks brand new, even though the pages are yellowed. Maybe it was an unwanted gift, or something. It's mine now.


	152. Return to Redcliffe - As It Should Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth provides a measure of comfort.

### Return to Redcliffe - As It Should Be

My boots make dull thudding noises on the stone floor as I make my way through the hall. I must admit that Her Harpiness' footsteps sound a lot more elegant than mine. _Click-clack_ rather than _clomp-stomp_. And Wynne expects me to be a lady like this, ha.

From behind a door that is slightly ajar I head a child's voice. A boy. "M-magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him," he mumbles, the last word turning into a heartrending sob. "Foul and corrupt are they, who have taken His gift..." A sad sniffle. "And turned it against His children..."

I can't hear anymore of this. Sad little children should be comforted! Without further ado I just shove the door open, like the unadjusted woman I am. Connor is kneeling beside what I assume is his bed and looks up, startled. His prayer ceases abruptly. "I-I'm sorry, I'm in the middle of my evening prayers."

"I heard." The boy gives me a strange look as I kneel beside him. His clear blue eyes are bloodshot, the area around them puffy and red. "So, why are you crying?" Gingerly I reach out my hand to his face. He seems wary, but allows me to wipe away his tears anyway.

"It's Mother, she…" Connor swallows awkwardly, more tears appearing in his eyes. "No, I shouldn't tell you. Please, can't you leave me to my prayers?"

She _wouldn't_ , would she? There are no marks on him, but still… "Your mother doesn't hurt you in any way, does she?"

"No." With a sad expression on his face, he shakes his head. "Even worse. She looks at me as if she fears me. Mother has never really said it, but I know it's because of the magic." More tears stream from his eyes in rapid succession. "You-you are a mage too, aren't you? The Warden?" he sniffles. "Mother says you are a great hero." And still she treats me the way she does. Not nice.

"Yes, I'm a mage too." My fingers run through the boy's reddish hair. "It must be difficult for you, going off to the Circle. But it's not all bad, I assure you. I've lived most of my life in the Circle's tower."

"Really? How is it?" An expression of curiosity sparks in his still sad eyes.

"First off, there are a lot of other children, so you'll be around peers, make some friends too." I give him a little pat on the hand. "If you like books, the library is enormous and filled with books on anything you can think of. And last but not least..." A small flame appears in the palm of my outstretched hand. "You get to learn lots of neat tricks."

The little boy's face scrunches into a look of infinite grief as he bursts into tears. "That's why Mother doesn't love me anymore!" A spell wisp appears out of nowhere; it hovers around his head, illuminating him with its eerie green glow. " _It's because of the magic_!"

"But sweetie, why do you think your mother doesn't love you anymore?" The woman may be a bitch, but I'm sure she has the same love and instincts all mothers have for their children.

"She-she would always tu-tuck me in-in at night, and s-sometimes read me a sto-ho-hoooryyyy," he bawls. "Now I hardly even see her anymore!" His wisp flickers out of existence.

"Oh, pumpkin…" I haven't even fully spread my arms in invitation as the child crashes into me, his arms wrapped tightly around my ribcage. My robes are getting wet with hot tears. Sobs that are muffled and choking make the boy's body convulse in my arms. "It's okay, little one, don't cry. Your mother loves you, even if she doesn't show it very often." His sobbing continues unabatedly while I stroke his back, trying to comfort him. "She went through all this trouble to have a mage tutor you, because she wants to keep you with her."

"I don't believe that," he hiccups. "She was just afraid anyone would find out about my magic..." His voice breaks again.

He does have a point there. Jowan said something about having a mage for a son was humiliating for a deeply religious woman like Isolde. But of course he was possessed for a while, and very creepy. Double voice, people dying. Not that I can tell him about _that_. Now what am I supposed to say? "How about we go find your mother and just ask her, hm?" Nothing like hearing things straight from the horse's mouth. Not that I'm comparing his mother to a horse or anything.

"Can-can we do that?" Connor looks up at me imploringly, cheeks stained with tears. "You are coming with me, aren't you?"

"Sure, if you want me to." The firm grip he currently has on my hand suggests that he does. Together we rise from the stone floor. "Do you have any clue where she spends her evenings?"

~*|'-'|*~

Peeking into the living room, I spy a small figure, wrapped in a shawl, sitting in a comfy chair. Next to me, Connor stiffens. His hold on my hand gets a little tighter. "There she is." He looks up at me with his puffy red eyes. "Should we go in?" His voice sounds a bit choked still, from all his crying.

"Yes, of course." I shoot him an encouraging look, and lo and behold, he manages to twist his lips into an awkward smile. "Go on in, don't be afraid."

"Very well…" His nose twitches adorably. "M-mother?"

Isolde's eyes, previously glued to a book in her lap, fix on her son. "Oh, hello Connor, I… _You_." The nervous, but affectionate look in her eyes changes drastically the moment she catches sight of me. "What are you doing with my boy, hm? Trying to poison his mind against his own mother?" She rises from her chair, opens her arms. "Come to me, Connor."

"Mother…" Sniffling slightly, he runs into her arms. "I've missed you so much!" Cuddling as if it is a matter of life and death ensues. Obviously he has to make up for lost time. "Do you still love me, mother?" He stares up at her, his demeanour insecure. Finally the boy hides his little face in her stomach. "Are you afraid of me, because I'm a mage?"

Suddenly her deadly glare softens. Instead she seems unsure of what to think. "Oh, my darling child." A genuine smile adorns her face, tears shining in her eyes, while she gazes down at him. "I do not want to lose you, Connor," she whispers affectionately. "I was trying to make parting easier this way, for you must leave soon, but I see now that this was wrong. Will you forgive me, my son?"

I quietly sneak out of the room. They really need to talk with each other right now. Mother and son are too busy with each other to notice anything else. All is as it should be. Maker's breath, I really need some food.


	153. Return to Redcliffe - Little Psychopath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, something to eat.

### Return to Redcliffe - Little Psychopath

Finally, the kitchen. I hope I'm not screwing over anyone by stealing their bread, but I'm so hungry. Hmm, now while I eat this stale loaf, I can read some more. Where was I? Oh yes, young Lord Stiffington was jerkin' his little gherkin.

_My little hand stroked the front of my knickerbockers, my breathing became laboured, my mind became fuzzy. Nanny and the maid, Sarah, were exploring each other's body with eager hands, mouths fused together in passion. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The cook had become wholly unimportant; all that mattered were those dazzling ladies and what they were doing with one another. In retrospect, it may seem strange that a boy of this tender age would see the appeal of lovely young women in a state of undress. What can I say? Some make an earlier start than others, and I was one of those early starters._

That's what I thought too.

_The three of them got together every free moment, which wasn't often (my mother was somewhat of a slaver, and I a child that required a lot of attention), but often enough for me. Sometimes I watched them in the backyard, sometimes they engaged in the four-legged-frolic in our enormous pantry. Once, even, I heard the cook sneak into the room where my nanny and I slept. She giggled, whispered for him to be quiet and even cried shame over the way he was trying to ravish her in the presence of a child. A few comforting words from our cook, and the bed began creaking anyway. Suppressed moans and groans, muffled noises of flesh slapping against flesh… As you can understand, gentle reader, I was nearly exploding in my bed. Not a long time later, a choked groan signalled the cook's climax and he left my room as quietly as he had come. And indeed, I came too._

Pfffft, bwaaahahahaha!

_From time to time, I would catch our trusted cook by himself. The girls he no doubt thanked the Maker for weren't always available to him, and the man still had needs, of course. Seeing how he fulfilled them mesmerized me. His hand always had such a firm grip on his impressive organ, stroking it up and down. Up and down. Occasionally his free hand would fondle his balls. His method inspired my own, but you shall find out about that later._

Mmm, oh yes. I love it when a man beats his meat.

_Even with all the intercourse our servants were apparently engaging in, it wasn't until I was fourteen that I had a real sexual experience for myself. And it was not at all the way I had envisioned it would go._

"So, hungry too, huh?"

I look up to find Alistair looking down on me, one hand on his stomach. It's growling loudly. "Yeah. What is up with those Orlesians and their frilly, dainty, hardly existent food?" I shove the last bite of bread down my gob, while my friend watches it with great greed in his eyes. "Oh, sorry, I guess I should've offered you some…"

"It's fine. Doesn't look very tasty anyway." He pulls up a chair. "So, what are you reading?"

"Pornography."

His hazel eyes grow wide. "Sorry, did you just say pornography?"

"Yep, yep, I did." I can't help but grin at his dumbfounded expression. "Shall we go out and grab a bite to eat? At the tavern, or something?" Maybe I'll find out about that unexpected experience later. This book is just fascinating.

"Yeah, let's do that." Leaning in slightly, Al drapes his arm around my shoulders. "I still owe you a drink, don't I?" Reflexively he licks his lips as he continues: "I know you can't ingest alcohol because…" His gaze briefly dips below my face. "Because of the baby, but I'm sure we can work something out."

Why, yes, how about we just stay in and have sex all night? So damned irresistible… How am I supposed to keep my skirts on whenever I'm around him? I'm just going to have to restrain myself; it cannot be helped. "Hmm, I could really go for something sweet." That reminds me: "Hey, what did Isolde want with you?"

"It was the strangest thing," he muses. "She said she was sorry about having me sent to the Chantry, crying even. Obviously fake, but still."

"Aren't you at least a little happy about that? I mean, it was she after all, who made your life misery before sending you to a place you knew nobody..."

He shrugs. "I try not to think about it overmuch, because the arlessa being nice to me gives the uneasy feeling that the world as we know it is about to end," he chuckles awkwardly. "Besides..." A cheeky grin splits his face. "I have the sneaking suspicion a certain mage is behind this so-called apology of hers."

"Who, _me_?" I put on my widest eyes. "What makes you think I have anything to do with that?"

"You mean, apart from the utter fear on her face while you were whispering to her?" His eyes narrow as he shoots me a shifty look. Busted. "She actually called you a psychotic bitch and suggested I sever myself from you."

I rap my fingers on the table. "And will you? I might be dangerous, you know," I drawl ominously. "I did threaten to tie her ears into a bow, after all." Psychotic bitch, hmm? Good to know what the woman thinks of me.

"You're a sweet little psychopath, Aster." Affectionately he ruffles my hair. "Only you could think of a such a far-fetched threat and make it sound convincing. Really, don't get yourself in trouble on my account."

"Right, sorry." A grave look on my face, I nod. "Won't happen again." Stupid of me. A fake apology won't change the damage that's been done to him.

"Hey..." Smiling sweetly, he simply lifts me out of my chair and plants me on his lap. These little shows of his strength never get old. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it a lot. Thank you." A tender kiss is pressed above my right eye.

Oh man, my knees are so weak. An uneasy feeling in my stomach, crazy fast heart rate. I must be _really_ hungry. "You're welcome," I whisper. "Shall we go, then?"


	154. Return to Redcliffe - Bottoms Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food!

### Return to Redcliffe - Bottoms Up

"Something non-alcoholic?" Bella eyes me incredulously. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'm breastfeeding, you see..." I shrug. I know people come here to get hammered, but I'm just hungry. "I don't think my son will appreciate the taste of ale in his milk." Collin coos happily from his position against my chest. I couldn't leave him alone, could I? Even with Stubbs watching him, he might get hungry. And this tavern isn't filled with alcoholics and harlots looking for customers. It's a safe place for my little darling. Just to make sure though, Stubbs is here too. He deserves a good treat.

The new tavern keeper nods in understanding. "I see. Well, I have elderflower lemonade and tea, if you like. And water."

Water! How exciting! "I'd like some of that lemonade, then."

Not even a minute after Bella has left, she returns, with a pitcher of lemonade for me, and a rather large tankard of ale for Alistair. "And you said something about food? Today's special is steak and chips." She gives my little boy an adoring look and pats him on the head. He smiles at her.

"Perfect!" my friend exclaims. "Two please. That should fill us up, after that pretentious Orlesian food."

Mmm, I know how you could fill me up. No, bad. "Right you are. Could you make it a double portion for each of us?" Stubbs makes a huffy noise. "And two raw steaks for my dog." A triumphant grunt, as if to say he has every right to those steaks, is my answer. Maybe I spoil him a little, but hey, he's worth it.

"Sure." The young woman smiles, her mouth widening almost impossibly far. "Coming right up!" Happily humming, she trots away. Her now empty serving tray is tucked under one arm. Being a tavern keeper seems to suit her. I'm sure almost anything beats being groped by Lloyd and being paid next to nothing to boot, anyway.

"So…" Alistair slides a little closer to me, a conspiratorial look in his pretty eyes. "Tell me about that book you were reading. What is it about?"

I feel around in my pouch to lay my latest treasure on the table top. "It seems to be the erotic autobiography of one Lord Stiffington."

"Lord _what_ now?" Al curiously looks over the cover. "Sounds interesting. Will you read me a bit?" For a split second his eyes flash. Apparently the idea turns him on a little. Hmmm…

"Well, not now." I look around. Apart from three sullen-looking guys sitting in a corner, the place is decidedly empty. But still. Reading dirty stories out loud? I'm not quite so shameless. Also, Collin is far too young for this. Moreover, it's a male perspective; he should be reading it to _me_.

"You ordered two double portions of steak and chips?" a vaguely familiar voice says. Two huge plates, filled to overflowing, are deposited on our table. " _Bon appétit_." The sound of earthenware hitting wooden planks signifies that my mabari's food has been brought as well. "And you too, enjoy." Stubbs barks happily in response.

I look up and see a face I've seen once before. Plain and bored, the only asset is a pair of lovely pointed ears. "Berwick?"

"Do I know you?" A look of recognition flickers across his features. "Oh, uh, hello, Warden." He awkwardly wipes his hands on his greasy apron. Suddenly he looks very nervous. Even without my backing I must be terrifying. Yeah, right.

"I thought you'd be back with Loghain by now."

He shrugs noncommittally. "I didn't see the point. Just sent him my report and handed in my resignation. Bella was kind enough to let me stay here, if I'd just play waiter for her."

"Ah. How do you enjoy working here?" While I wait for his answer, I stuff a chip down my mouth. Good wholesome Fereldan food. Slightly greasy, but the taste is still divine.

"Yes, it's not bad." Berwick shoots me a nervous smile. "Well, enjoy your meal."

Alistair grins. "Thanks!" His plate is already half empty.

"Maker's breath, man, do try to pace yourself." I roll my eyes and cut off a piece of steak. Still pink, great. _Mmmmmm_ , and the gravy. Not even a mountain of _filet mignon_ could beat this. "Never mind." Three minutes later I've finished everything on my plate. My stomach feels like it's about to burst. A long belch shoots from my mouth unbidden. "Oops, excuse me."

"Aren't you the expert of moderation?" Al makes a noise that's midway between a scoff and a laugh. His gleeful expression gradually fades. "You have some gravy," he murmurs hoarsely, "right there." Ever so slowly he inches closer, until he is so close I can't properly see him anymore. His tongue glides down the side of my mouth. "Got it." Leisurely he sits back in his chair and continues eating like he just wasn't licking my face in an erotic manner. Apparently it confuses my son, because he looks at the both of us in turn with a great big frown. Stubbs gives a curious little whine.

I press my legs together. That tiny gesture has just made me soak my panties right through. My entire body is on fire, my heart is hammering in my chest. Damn it. Maybe some lemonade will cool me down. "Mmm…" Sweet. Fruity. Delicious. "Al, you have to try some." In fact, I think the little one should try some too. I dip my finger into the cool liquid and touch it to Collin's lips. After only a small taste, he opens his mouth for more. Ah, lemonade; that cool, refreshing drink.

"I think I would rather watch you enjoy that." With a sly grin he picks up his tankard. "Bottoms up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Babies can't have cordial, someone once told me very smugly. I didn't know and so neither did Astoreth. Sue me.


	155. Return to Redcliffe - Bad to the Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair drinks too much ale. What else is new?

### Return to Redcliffe - Bad to the Bone

Bottoms up indeed. Six more tankards of ale have flowed down his throat, and now Alistair is dancing on our table, singing some song about how he's bad to the bone. It amuses the baby to no end. " _I make a rich woman beg, badadada_ da!" Hiccup, giggle. " _I'll make a good woman steal, badadada_ da!" The three men in the corner seemed to have perked up to this act, clapping in time and cheering. " _I'll make an old woman blush…_ " Here Al conspicuously shuts his mouth, gesturing to his fans.

" _Badadada_ da!" they exclaim in unison. My mabari howls in tune and jumps up, his forelegs resting on our table while he looks up at Alistair. His tail is wagging so quickly, the stubby little thing is almost invisible.

"Yeah!" The drunken Warden laughs gleefully and teeters on his unsteady legs. "Where was I? Oh, right." His hazy eyes focus on me. " _And make a young girl squeal…_ " His off-key singing turns sultrier as his voice drops a few octaves. " _I wanna be yours, pretty baby, yours and yours alone_." Oh dear. Mine and mine alone? I can feel my face heat up even more. " _But I'm here to tell you, honey_ …"

The trio in the corner chime in: " _Badadada_ da!"

" _That I'm bad to the bone_!" Al bellows.

" _Badadada_ da!"

" _B-b-b-b-bad_!"

" _Badadada_ da!"

" _B-b-b-b-bad_!"

" _Badadada_ da!"

" _Bad to the bone_!"

Right in the middle of Alistair madly strumming an invisible lute and his fans swaying to music apparently only they can hear, Berwick appears beside me. "Maybe your friend should have stuck with the lemonade too."

"Heh, maybe, but I wouldn't miss this show for the world." My eyes are riveted to the way the boy is thrusting his hips forward. In a very provocative way. Rawr. I can almost feel him deep inside of me. Now who is bad to the bone? Oh what am I doing, thinking such things with my child so close by? Not that he can hear my thoughts, but still. Confound that Alistair and his confounded sexiness.

"Would you like a refill?" Not really, no. I'm busy. The elf taps my shoulder. "Warden, are you even listening?" This time he gives a gentle shake. "Warden?"

In the middle of another proclamation of how bad he is, Alistair abruptly cuts off his song. "You! Stay away from my woman!" He tackles Berwick, who gives a surprised squeal. "She's _mine_!"


	156. Return to Redcliffe - Beautiful Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth makes a new friend, Alistair almost kills somebody.

### Return to Redcliffe - Beautiful Eyes

"Warden?" a soft voice speaks just behind me, a delicate hand on my shoulder. "Are you a Grey Warden?"

I rise from my chair and turn. The woman who just addressed me looks absolutely miserable, but her eyes… The irises are an unusual shade of intense blue, almost violet, flecked with tiny specks of gold. "Is there anything I can help you with?" Wow, these have to be the most beautiful eyes I have ever had the privilege of seeing. _She has the most beautiful eyes, my Helena._ "Your name wouldn't happen to be Helena, would it?"

Her enchanting eyes fill with tears. "How did you know? You… you must know my Jory. Please tell me what became of him!"

"I, uhm…" A gargling noise and choked cries for assistance attract my attention. "I'm sorry, I really need to make sure my friend doesn't kill anybody." I quickly yank Alistair away from Berwick, who is nearly bug-eyed from the hands wrapped around his neck. "What on Thedas are you _doing_? Let him go, _now_!"

"He was making a pass at my woman!" The Warden puts up a fight as I pull his hands away.

"I was just trying to refill her drink!" Berwick chokes out. "Andraste's ass, I'm a _waiter_!"

Al promptly releases him. "Oh yeah, you're right. Sorry." The elf is completely forgotten as he waddles over to me and grabs a firm hold of my waist. "You're mine." He buries his face in my side.

"Er yeah, sure, buddy." Dragging Alistair with me, I return to Helena. "Please forgive me for the interruption. And please forgive me for being unable to contact you earlier." The poor woman is wringing her hands, eyeing me with equal measures expectancy and grief. "I… I regret to inform you that your husband has perished at Ostagar. He was rewarded the highest honour of fighting by the king's side. You should have seen how proud he was." A lie like this can surely be forgiven, no? She doesn't need that burden of knowing how Jory really died. Let him remain the hero he no doubt was to her.

Helena smiles gently, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, I am sure he was."

"He fought like a lion and cut down many, but eventually the darkspawn overwhelmed him." I gingerly grab her hand and squeeze it. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. You have given my anxious heart peace, Warden." She takes a delicate white handkerchief from a pocket on her dress (simple, but obviously of good quality) and dabs her eyes with it. It's no use though; the tears keep on flowing. "Your child is so beautiful," she sobs, running her elegant fingers through Collin's fuzzy hair. "Just like my little William was."

Was? Oh no… "Your husband told me you were with child…"

"I was, yes." Her voice is heartbroken, infinitely sad. My baby's face takes on a pitying expression while he looks at her. My smart little angel. "He was worth every painful hour of labour I went through." Her voice breaks. "Healthy and beautiful, a cheerful baby." Again she makes a useless attempt at drying her eyes. "I loved him so much, adored him. For a few weeks, I was happy. Suddenly he became ill, and… There was nothing I could do to save him. Nothing _anyone_ could do, no matter how hard they tried." Finally Helena buries her face in her hands, crying miserably.

I don't know what to say. Is there anything I can say? Probably not. I hand Collin to Alistair, who happily hugs him to his chest, and gingerly embrace the poor woman. While I rub her back, she leans into me, until her head is resting on my shoulder. Her honey-blonde ringlets smell of lilacs. She firmly wraps her arms around me, clinging to me for dear life. How long has she been like this? Has she come from Highever all alone? How terrible. And how terrible of me to forget all about her. She must have been through so much. The death of her child, the uncertainty of ser Jory's fate. Gradually her sobs die down. "Forgive me, Warden. Sometimes I cannot hold back the tears." Her voice is thick with grief.

"Of course, I understand." I take her handkerchief from her and very carefully wipe away her tears. This time they stay away. "May I ask why you moved here from Highever?"

"Jory must have told you a lot about us. There was an uprising in Highever, for one. The teyrn and his family were butchered." She wearily shakes her head. "By one of his closest friends, no less. I came here not only for refuge, but because my love had convinced me of the beauty of his hometown, and I had hoped to see him return to me." A sad sigh passes from between her lips. Jory wasn't lying; his wife is very beautiful indeed. And those eyes!

I nod. "Where are you staying at the moment?"

"Right here." Helena runs a hand through her hair. On her ring finger sparkles a golden band with a great big ruby on it. "I've not bought a house yet, nor do I have enough money for it. Or to stay here for much longer, for that matter." Poor thing looks so lost.

"Ser Jory was in Arl Eamon's retinue, wasn't he?" I chew my lip. "I'm sure that if we ask nicely, he will let you stay in his castle. They have too many rooms they're not using anyway. Come, let's all go there if you wish." If he refuses, I can always give her some of our money.

The young woman shrugs. "Certainly. I have no other place to go. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say."

"Great." I drag Alistair up off the floor. "Come on you, let's put you to bed."

"Are you coming with me?" he asks eagerly. "And who is that pretty lady?"

Giggling despite her wretched situation, Helena covers her mouth with her hand. "My name is Helena, a pleasure to meet you."

"Hi, I'm Alistair." He grins widely. "I'm a Warden too, you know, but I'm drunk. And you know what?" Giggling madly, he kisses his own fingertips in a funny gesture. "It's beautiful! Sooo… Aster takes care of stuff now." Most unexpectedly the flat of his hand hits me hard on the ass. "Who's a smart girl?"

I yelp and frown at Helena, who is openly laughing now. "How rude!" I'm going red with embarrassment, I know it. Even Berwick, still lying on the floor, seems to be amused by all this drunken silliness. He has fingerprint-shaped bruises on his throat. "Ah, I'm so sorry," I tell him.

Obviously unfazed, the man shrugs. "I grew up in an Alienage. I'm used to much worse." His voice sounds cracked. Obviously on his guard, he watches me when I kneel beside him and lay a hand on his throat.

"I'm not going to choke you." Just a small amount of healing energy makes the bruises disappear immediately. "How does that feel?"

"Much better, thank you." And once again he sounds normal. He picks himself up from the floor, dusts himself off. "That'll be nine silvers and thirty-six bits."

"Here." I dig a sovereign from Al's pocket, making him squirm and giggle, and dump it in Berwick's hand. "Thanks for everything, see you around, maybe."

And so our party, with Stubbs contently licking his chops trailing behind and Alistair leaning on me, exit the tavern. "Would you mind holding Collin for me?" I ask Helena.

"Not at all." She smiles down on the baby in her arms. "You are a lovely boy, yes you are," she coos, tickling his tummy. "He looks just like you. Aster, wasn't it?"

"Actually, it's Astoreth, but my friend likes calling me that." Said friend is swaying on his legs while we attempt to walk, singing another song. This time it's about burning love, or some such. He feels his temperature rising apparently. Higher, higher, it's burning through to his soul. Right. Burning love sounds like a euphemism for a sexually transmitted disease. "You're welcome to call me whatever you like."

The beautiful blonde looks up from playing with Collin. "Then Aster it is. Is your friend going to be all right?" She chuckles under her breath. "I have never seen anyone so inebriated."

"He's such a lightweight." The loss of Al weighing me down kind of alarms me, but then I see him dancing with Stubbs. Thankfully he's not lying somewhere in the dust. I'm glad he's not crying; this is the first time I've seen him drunk and happy. "Amusing though, isn't he?"

"Indeed!" With a hint of sadness, the young woman smiles. "I've not been so amused in a long time..." Her eyebrows raise quizzically and she looks down. "What's the matter, little one?"

Collin is making begging noises, pulling at her dress. I know what that means. "He's probably thirsty and smells milk." Still lactating? " _Your_ milk?"

"I, well..." For some reason, she is blushing. "Strange, isn't it? I am still producing milk, even with William passed on for quite a long time."

I might be considered an opportunist, but maybe... A little plan is hatching in my brain. This might work out great for all of us. I hardly know this woman, but my gut tells me I can trust her. And my gut is rarely wrong. "Maybe you would like to feed him then."

"What, here?" She eyes me incredulously. "We are in the middle of Redcliffe."

"There is nobody out at the moment, Alistair is too busy dancing with the dog to notice anything else, and besides, it's not like you're doing anything sordid." I smile. "Just feeding a hungry child." Apart from that, her dress is far more easily opened than my robes. Collin is still looking up at her, his lower lip quivering suspiciously.

She sighs in defeat. "Oh, how could I resist an adorable little face such as this?" After looking around for a moment, she bares a perfectly rounded breast and presents it to the baby. He immediately latches onto it. "This is a relief, I must say."

"Yes, I know what you mean." My own chest is quite heavy at the moment, but I'm sure it will go away on its own. That's how nursing works, isn't it? As long as someone drinks your milk, it will be made. If not, it will cease automatically at some point. I think. It sounds plausible. "Collin likes you."

As if she does it every day, Helena lays the baby over her shoulder as soon as he is done nursing. A content little burp, and Collin is satisfied once more. "And I like Collin. You don't mind this?"

"No, no, not at all." She looks a little happier now, holding my child as if he's her own. I'm not jealous, I think. Okay… Maybe a little, but this is great. It sets a good precedent. "I wouldn't want him to become one of those clinging children, afraid of anybody but their own mother."

"I suppose you are right." Suddenly my new companion lowers her voice. "You know, I've heard tell that the arlessa of Redcliffe isn't the most pleasant of people..."

Aha! Gossip time! Naturally this would concern her though, seeing how she will probably move in with the woman. "You have no idea. Collin doesn't even like her."

"He doesn't?" she gasps in surprise. "Then she must really be terrible!"

Yes, quite terrible. And I am so going to tell her all about it.


	157. Return to Redcliffe - Second Opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena is welcomed into the castle.

### Return to Redcliffe - Second Opinion

"Good old Jory was always speaking about you." Arl Eamon gives Helena a look filled with pity. "I am sorry for your loss, dear child. If there is anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to ask."

My newest friend, for I already consider her such, awkwardly clears her throat. "Thank you, my lord. As a matter of fact, I…" She swallows several times. "I, er…" Her elbow pokes me in the side. That is sharp. "Aster, help me!" she hisses.

"Allow me, my lord." I operate my prettiest smile, even though I probably don't need it. "You see, Helena is currently without a fixed abode and she has insufficient funds to obtain said abode." For the love of… Why am I speaking like this? Nobility apparently has this kind of effect on me. "We were hoping you would let her stay one of the many free rooms in the castle."

"Yes, I will clean, cook, polish your knights' armour, whatever you need!" Helena eagerly adds.

The arl eyes us both in turn, an amused look on his face. After a pregnant silence of what feels like several minutes, he bursts out laughing. "My dear, that will not be necessary! We have plenty of servants for such tasks." The old man lays a fatherly hand on Helena's shoulder. "Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Castle Redcliffe."

"Oh, thank you, my lord!" Probably in an impulse, she flings her arms around her benefactor and hugs him. She almost immediately releases him, her face red and embarrassed. "I er, forgive me. You won't even notice I'm here, I promise."

"I would prefer to notice you." He chuckles, obviously entertained by the girl's almost childlike enthusiasm. "There is something I would like you to do, however."

Helena nods so swiftly her curls dance around her head. "Whatever you need, my lord."

"The arlessa rarely leaves the castle and has very few friends, so I would be grateful if you would try to become her confidante." The man sighs. "I fear that she misses the company of other ladies. You seem like an elegant young lady, she will like you." Or be jealous of how young and pretty she is. But I'm keeping quiet. I'm sure that demon in Connor was just exaggerating. Wonder how Al is doing? Probably sleeping it off; he started snoring almost as soon as he fell into bed. Stubbs joined him too, heh. So cute. Man and man's best friend, a picture of adorableness.

Uh oh. Suddenly the blonde looks slightly less happy. Maybe I shouldn't have told her about Al's adventures through Isolde's agency and my own dealings with the bitch. Oh well. "Certainly. It will be nice to talk about dresses and shoes with someone who cares." She smiles as if everything is peachy keen, but I do detect a tiny bit of strain.

Arl Eamon kindly returns her smile. "Good, good. Now then, you may pick out any room that is unoccupied; the Warden will be your guide. Good evening, ladies." With that, he returns to his desk once more to pore over a stack of documents.

We exit the study after wishing him the same. "Oh dear, becoming friends with the arlessa?" Helena frets. "How am I to do that?"

"Easily." I shrug. "You're nice; I'm sure she'll like you, don't worry."

"Aww…" She wraps an arm around my shoulders and briefly rests her head against mine. The woman is easily half a head taller than I am. "You're too sweet, Aster."

Her scent is attractive. Very attractive. Goodness me. Seems I have a severe weak spot for pretty ladies. "I-I, uhm, I try." Hmm. You know… Having an idea all by myself is all well and nice, but just to be sure, I'll need a second opinion. "Hey, would you like to meet another one of my friends before you face the arlessa?"

"Of course." A sweet smile on her lips, she bends down and softly kisses my cheek. "They must all be as amazing as you are." My heart begins beating twice as fast. Images of us, undressed and tangled into thin sheets, spring into my mind. Gleaming with sweat. Kissing and touching. Astoreth, you dirty, dirty girl. I shake my head, making the images disappear. Whew.

"Well, she _is_ something else, that's for sure."


	158. Return to Redcliffe - Raised by Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth makes Helena an offer she can't refuse.

### Return to Redcliffe - Raised by Wolves

I knock at the door. No response. I knock again, a little louder and longer this time. A displeased groan sounds, some creaking of a bed and dragging footsteps. The door opens slightly. "What is the meaning of this interruption?" Morrigan questions sternly. Her tone is sleepy and severely pissed off. "If you are another servant, about to ask me if I would like a change of clothes, I will set you on fire."

On fire? I'm no servant with a change of clothes, but that's no guarantee I won't be set on fire between now and two minutes. "It's me."

Sighing heavily, the witch pushes open her door. "Astoreth, you know better than to disturb my sleeping pattern." Her hair is down, wildly disarranged around her bare shoulders. I suspect she's wearing nothing underneath that sheet tied around her. Why do I feel like tearing it off her with my teeth? This lack of sex is really getting to me. I need help. "You are not alone, are you?" Morrigan curiously peeks outside; her face looks decidedly less bleary. "Oh good, at least 'tis not Alistair."

"Hi." Helena raises a hand in greeting.

"Who is this?" the dark-haired beauty asks me, thoroughly ignoring my companion. "I do not recall having seen this woman before."

Said women chuckles and mutters into my ear: "Wow, your friend has a great bedside manner." Her breath tickles my ear. It's doing my horny mind no favours at all. Fuck. I'm about to flood the place.

"Will you watch Collin for me again?" I send her a pleading look. "I'll explain later."

"Gladly." Helena takes my sleeping baby into her arms, safely cradling him to her chest. "Come here, my darling." Humming under her breath, she rocks Collin and seems to forget all around her.

I slip into Morrigan's room and close the room behind me. "What do you think?"

"I think I would like to return to sleep." Her yellow eyes glower at me half-heartedly.

"Do you know who that woman is?" I grin at her disinterested shrug. "That, my dear, is ser Jory's wife. You know, the older guy with the big ears who was with us in the Korcari Wilds?"

Morrigan gasps. "How does a man like _that_ get involved with a woman like _this_?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "Truly, he must have been very wealthy or very well-endowed."

"Or, you know, they could have just really fallen in love." Morrigan, you silly thing. There are more important things in human society than physical traits and money. "In any case, she is going to live in this castle. Collin really likes her, so I thought maybe I could leave him with her until the Blight is over. What do you think?"

"Why are you asking me for my opinion?" With a mighty yawn, the witch stretches her arms above her head. The sheet slides down slightly, and I have to fight to restrain myself. "I am too tired for this."

"Because I trust you." And by the Maker, would I like to get under that sheet. Play with her breasts, and… Gah.

Silence. "Oh." Again with the awkwardness. After several minutes of staring at the floor and biting her delightfully kissable (fight the temptation, fight the temptation) lower lip, she looks me in the face. "My instinct tells me this woman is trustworthy. 'Tis clear that little Collin feels comfortable around her, and I see very obviously that she adores him. Was that all?"

"You're not just saying this so I'll leave, are you?"

"What?" Morrigan raises an elegant eyebrow. "I do not take such matters lightly. 'Tis merely the short version that I have given you." Yawn.

I tilt my head and study her features. She's not lying, just tired. "Thank you, I'm glad you approve. Go back to sleep." I can't kiss her goodnight, no matter how much I would like to. It might lead to me trying to do very naughty things with her. That would probably ruin this friendship. _Argh_. Why am I so horny?

"Finally." Grumbling about me ruining her night, Morrigan lumbers back to bed. "The next time you bother me, there shall be consequences."

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my boots." I duck just in time to avoid the pillow thrown at me. " _Ha_ , you missed me!"

"Return that to me," the witch murmurs. "I have need of it." Briefly I consider keeping the fluffy thing, but that would be all too cruel. I tuck it under her head; her dark hair fans out over the white surface. A beautiful sight. "Sleep well, my friend." She turns over, hiding her lovely face from my view.

Softly I run my fingers through her silken hair. "You too." I leave her room as quietly as I can.

"So tell me, why is your friend so unadjusted?" Helena chuckles as soon as she sees me. "Was she raised by wolves?" Together we continue down the corridor, in search of the arlessa.

"Close. She grew up in the Korcari Wilds." The first time we met I was bowled over by how beautiful she was. I don't think I've ever fully recovered, ha. "How are you feeling?"

She blinks her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek in contemplation. "Sad that Jory is really gone, glad that I have certainty and happy that I have met you and your son. Isn't it awfully tough being a single mother?"

"You're the first stranger to figure out that Alistair isn't his father." Is it tough being a single mother? Guess not. "But in answer to your question: I'm not exactly alone. My friends and companions look out for me, they offer support and free babysitting. So no, so far it's not been very tough." I sigh. Might as well spring this thing on her now we're on the subject. "You realize we're about to go into an all-out war, right? With the darkspawn, with Loghain…"

"Indeed. Difficult times to be a Grey Warden and a mother at the same time," she replies thoughtfully. Collin is soundly sleeping in her arms, seemingly as comfortable as he is with me. My darling, I love you. I'm sorry.

I clear my throat. "I know we've only just met, and that you have your own grief to deal with, but I-…"

"Say no more." Laughing at my boldness, Helena bumps her shoulder against mine. "I would love to look after Collin for you while you are away. I'm sure it is much safer for him behind castle walls, than on the road."

"Thank you." I stop her walking by holding on to her shoulders. "This means so much to me." My lower lip is having a hard time staying still and I feel more emotional than I have been feeling in quite a long time. Even with Jowan's departure. "Thank you." And here it goes. The floodgates have opened. It's an overwhelming feeling, the certainty of knowing that your child will be safe and well taken care of. Even if it's not by you.

My friend wipes away my tears. "Silly girl. I don't think you know how much this means to _me_." Her soft lips press a kiss atop my head. "Aster, you have brought some brightness in my otherwise dark existence. Collin may not be mine and may not stay with me forever, but at least I will have a chance to raise a child. To watch him grow up. I should be the one thanking you."

"You're welcome," I sniffle. "I'm glad you get along so well."

"As am I." Sweetly she smiles down on Collin. Her child, for now. "In my prayers I will thank the Maker for bringing us together. Meeting you is a true gift."

I nod, wiping away the remainder of tears with my arm guard. "I feel the same way." Except that I don't tend to pray to the Maker much. And now on to meeting with Her Harpiness.


	159. Return to Redcliffe - Bedtime Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena gets to meet the not-so-lovely Lady Isolde.

### Return to Redcliffe - Bedtime Stories

Arlessa Isolde is still sitting in the living room, but not alone this time. She is animatedly reading Connor a story, while he is snugly nestled up to her. "How they terrified the poor duckling! He turned away his head to hide it under his wing, and at the same moment a large terrible dog passed quite near him. His jaws were open, his tongue hung from his mouth, and his eyes glared fearfully..."

I clear my throat, making the two snap up. "Good evening."

"Warden." The arlessa coolly gazes at me. "Is there something you need?"

"Do you know of a knight named ser Jory in your husband's retinue?" I've hooked my arm through Helena's, in an attempt to assuage her nerves. Collin's wrapped in my scarf again, so my new friend has her hands free for a formal introduction and Andraste knows what else.

Isolde's nose wrinkles in thought. "Oh yes, I vaguely recall him. Spent most of his time in Highever, no? What of him?"

"He lost his life at Ostagar, and through sheer coincidence we have made contact with his widow." I carefully push Helena forward. "This is her."

"Greetings." The young woman politely curtsies. "I am Helena. It is an honour to meet you."

Before rising from her chair, Isolde hands her son the storybook with the suggestion he look it through by himself for a while. "My sympathy for your loss, my dear." The arlessa gently takes Helena's hands in hers, then eyes her with worry. "Is anything the matter? You are trembling like a leaf."

"Er, n-no..." The pretty blonde averts her eyes to the floor. "My Jory told me so much of your beauty and kindness, and in your presence I see that every one of his words was true," she whispers sweetly. Smooth. Really smooth.

Isolde is obviously a sucker for praise, because she begins blushing. Her eyes are twinkling with unadulterated joy. Friendship initiated. "You certainly have a way with words, dear girl."

Helena curtsies again. "Thank you, my lady."

"Your husband has allowed Helena to join you in your castle, since she has no place to stay," I butt in.

"That is wonderful!" Without even a hint of a glare, the Orlesian woman _smiles_ at me. Dear Maker and all the elven gods, the world is going to end! "Neither of us will be very lonely anymore."

Connor looks up from his book. "I am still here, Mother." Heh. I'd be insulted too.

With an apologetic smile, Isolde chuckles. "You know that this was not my meaning, Connor." Obviously someone is still a little huffy. The little boy dives back into his book, grumbling under his breath. The arlessa is so delighted with her new companion, she has only eyes for her. Yeah, no wonder, with looks like hers. "Have you found yourself a nice bedroom yet?"

"I haven't, my lady." The widow has a shy smile on her lips, her demeanour almost meek.

"Oh, please, call me Isolde," the woman urges. "I have an excellent chamber in mind, roomy and beautifully furnished. Shall I show you?"

Helena sends me a sidelong glance. "I would appreciate that, but…"

"Here you are." I've untied Collin and hand the baby to her. "Spend some time with him, get to know him a little. I will be gone for a few days starting tomorrow, so you'll have plenty of time to get used to each other."

"Get used to…?" The arlessa promptly grabs my arm to take me aside. "What is this, Warden? You refuse my offer to let your child stay with me, and allow an almost perfect stranger to do this instead? She seems perfectly kind, but how well do you know this woman?" Her voice is only barely audible, even to me.

I pry her bony hand away from my arm. "My lady, I feel that I can trust her, and more importantly, so does Collin. I didn't want to tell you this, but my child… He doesn't really like you."

"Oh." Her delicate features crumple into a crestfallen expression. "That explains the rather stern look on his little face."

"I'm sorry I threatened you into apologizing to Alistair, I understand you had him sent away because of the rumours that he was Arl Eamon's son, but…"

Isolde sighs. "That was wrong of me. He was just a little boy, but I was threatened by his presence. Nobody took me seriously, I was a laughing stock."

"You should know better than to care about what others think of you. Why, if I did, I would be a hermit living in a cave." I chuckle at the image. What would I _wear_? Bet I would look like Flemeth.

"Indeed, you are right. Just know that I meant every word I said to Alistair." She smiles, and bends down to whisper into my ear: "Especially the part about you being a psychotic bitch."

"Fair enough." It's no secret I don't like her either, and I'm not the most stable of people. Thankfully I've never killed anyone in a fit of rage or anything. Oh, wait… "Just think of it this way, hm? With Helena so close by, you'll indirectly be taking care of Collin and he might grow to like you. Although I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you."

Isolde's smile never wavers. "Maybe I do not dislike you all that much, Warden. Truce?"

"Truce." I accept her extended hand and shake it. "Let bygones be bygones."

"Good. Will you be joining us as well, or…?"

I wave my hand. "Nah, I have to go see how Alistair is doing."

"Is he ill?" the arlessa asks, half-curious, half-worried.

"Drunk." I giggle like a loon at the thought of his concert. _Badadada_ da.

"Ah, men." Rolling her eyes, Isolde chuckles wryly. "Come then, my dear, let us find you a suitable place to move into." She walks out of the room with her heels clicking on the floor. "Warden, enjoy the rest of your evening. I will be back to tuck you in, Connor."

Helena's arm wraps around my shoulders, her lips on my forehead. "Goodnight, Aster. Thank you for everything." Her eyes are shining again. No actual tears though. "Say goodnight to your mommy, Collin."

"He's sleeping still." I bend down to kiss his plump little cheek. "Sweet dreams, my angel. Hope you find a nice room for yourself."

"I will." And so she follows Isolde farther into the castle.

Something is tugging at my robes, and I look down. "Will you read me a story?" Connor asks, with irresistible puppy eyes. He is already presenting his book to me, opened on a page with a picture of a wolf and a little girl wearing a red hood depicted on it.

Can't… say… no… "Of course, sweetie."


	160. Return to Redcliffe - Playing Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth checks up on Alistair.

### Return to Redcliffe - Playing Around

Oh. Oh, my. Apparently he's been conscious long enough to undress. Alistair is stretched out across his bed, strong limbs and chiselled torso beautifully displayed. The sheet he is under only covers his naughty bits, which only makes him look all the sexier. Stubbs has left his side. Instead, the dog is curled up in front of the fire. Good, all the more room for me here. I wonder if he's wearing his smallclothes still? So intriguing. That reminds me… Teagan. How would he be in the sack? No doubt a handsome man like that has a lot of experience. Having stepped out of my boots, I neatly drape my shrug over a chair; corset, dress, armlets and stockings follow suit until I'm standing in my panties. It's not like he has never seen my breasts before or anything.

Al's eyes open while I'm about to step into his bed. "I knew you would come to check on me," he whispers huskily. What the… Three seconds later, I'm on my back, both of my wrists caught in his strong hand and my ankles pinned beneath his knees. The sheet falls away, offering me a tantalizing glimpse of what he has to offer. No smallclothes.

"What are you _doing_?" I try to wriggle away, but he is simply far too strong for me. Kind of makes you wonder about those sparring matches. "Release me!"

"What's the matter, little lady?" he mutters into my ear, his hot breath touching my neck. A delightful shiver courses down my back. "Am I too strong for you?" My arms are pinned above my head, my body stretched fully. His free hand glides down my side. "Or could it be you don't feel like resisting at all, hmm?"

Promptly I put up a perfunctory struggle. It's no use anyway. "You're too strong for me, Alistair. Enough playing around, let me go."

"No way." He grins down on me, hunger in his eyes. That's it, no more ale for him. Ever again. This time I mean it. He whistles as his eyes sweep my body and my lack of clothing. "Ah, there are those lovely breasts again." Bending down, he imprints a kiss just above my right nipple. It immediately stiffens. "Hmm, I've always wanted to do that. I lied, you know," he adds casually, rubbing a stubbly cheek against my tender skin. Just as I'm getting ready to ask what exactly he lied about, he continues: "I said I'd never seen breasts before you showed me yours at the inn, but that's not true. Remember when we needed to be purified to get to Andraste's ashes?"

Oh, _shit_. The naked fire-walking. "You didn't!"

"Of course I did." Strangely enough, he doesn't even seem drunk. Just sexy and in control. And I must admit that I love this new Alistair. Not a bumbling boy, but a confident man. The signs were already there when he decided to help Levi without even asking me. "I liked what I saw. You have curves in all the right places." Without warning he catches my nipple between his lips, suckles at it greedily while kneading my breast. My back arches. I'm hopelessly failing at not trying to moan.

"Please, Alistair, please, please don't…" I can feel how he's drinking my milk. So hot. And bad. Mostly hot. Why am I so weak?

"Don't _what_?" He smirks, running his tongue along a stiff peak. "Don't stop?" His lips curl into a demonic grin. "The things you do to me…" Softly he moans; my gaze shifts to where his hand is moving. Stroking the pronounced bulge under his covering. Goodness. I'm going to melt. "Like the sight of that?"

I nod. "Yes…" My eyes are pretty much glued to the motion. Back and forth. Back and forth. "Don't stop."

"Want to see it?" He smiles lazily, still touching himself. "I'll show you."

"Wait." Because of his distraction, I manage to free one leg. This is new, but I will give it a shot. I delicately rest my foot in his lap, my sole only just grazing his balls. He groans when I apply a slight amount of pressure. "Don't immediately give me everything, now."

With an uncertain expression, he chews his lip. "Really? Why not?"

"It's better that way, handsome." Again I coax forth a groan from his lips with my foot. "Trust me." This was bound to happen eventually. And why not now? Andraste knows I'm as horny as an old goat.

Gingerly he releases my wrists; his muscles are tight with alertness, but he quickly relaxes. I'm not going anywhere, obviously. Not when there is so much fun to have right here. "Is it finally going to happen? Are you going to make a man out of me after all this time?" The warm hand on my breast is trembling with nerves.

"What's the rush? You're not going to die _tomorrow_ , you know." I grin, imprinting his form into my mind. Nothing will be able to remove the image of that golden trail below his belly button from my mind. Absolutely beautiful. My toes brush his erection. "And I can feel very well that you are a man already."

"You know what I mean." Covering my body with his, Alistair starts nibbling on my earlobe. As soon as my bare breasts make contact with his chest, we utter a simultaneous moan. "So soft…" His voice is barely a whisper, arousal dripping from every word.

Suddenly I'm not so sure anymore. "Al, are you certain about this?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He sits up, kneeling again. His hand is between his legs and he is openly rubbing up and down his length. Where before he was sexy and in control, he seems desperate now. Poor boy. "I want you. _Now_." Immediately he plunges his face between my breasts.

"Honey…" I wrap my arms around his shoulders to stroke his hair. "We shouldn't." Not that I wouldn't want to. I want to see him blush while he slowly pushes himself into me, I want to hear him tell me how good it feels. I want to pleasure him until he's reduced to a moaning little puddle. But not like this. Not while he is drunk out of his wits and won't remember half of it the next day. It should be special. And he should want me too when he's sober. "Sleep it off, and then we'll see if you still feel the same." No answer. "Uh, Al?" The only answer is a loud snore. Oh, lovely. I got all horny for nothing. His purity will remain intact, but I will slowly go mad until I'm running around the castle half-naked, screaming and pulling my hair. We can't have that, can we? Of course we can't.

However, I'm tired. Very tired. And I feel a little empty, knowing that I will be separated from Collin for a longer time than ever. Maybe some sleep would do me good. If I can get it. Probably not.


	161. Return to Redcliffe - Sexy Oghren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroine leaves her sleeping companion to look for fun elsewhere.

### Return to Redcliffe - Sexy Oghren

And of course I was right. I swear, if I had a copper for every time I was wrong, I would be broke. How am I supposed to sleep with his magnificent body pressed so close against me that I can feel every single detail of it? I keep seeing him before me whenever I close my eyes; those glorious abs and the narrow line of blond hairs that lead into an area I would love to explore. With my lips and tongue. Mmm…

Behind me, Alistair groans and shifts. He grows hard against my bum. Is he still sleeping? Breathing is slow and even, so I guess so. Slowly he grinds his pelvis into my backside, fingers digging into my hips. Soft moans pour from his mouth. He moves rhythmically, as if… Someone is having a sexy dream. Fuck. I really, really need to get laid. I've been wet all this time and now it's become even worse. Didn't know it was possible even. I really need him inside of me. It would be so easy too. Just move aside my panties and slide it in. I'm sure he will fill me very well. The hardness pressing against me feels promising at least. A nice, rock-solid cock.

After torturing me for I don't know how long, his grip on me tightens. My sexy bed-buddy moans particularly loudly, unexpectedly sinking his teeth into my shoulder. I can feel him throbbing while he pushes against me hard, then stills completely. A wet stain is forming, one I can feel right on my skin. Oh, my. His hands fall away from me, and so I turn. Alistair is smiling contently in his sleep, his cheeks rosy. So sweet. He's mumbling about lightning for some reason. "Hey, cutie," I whisper softly, running my fingers along his jaw line. His eyes stay closed, but his smile grows wider. "I need to take care of something. Be back soon."

I can't resist. I simply have to steal a kiss from those lips. They are so, so soft. Pity he doesn't kiss me back, but what can I expect from someone who is sleeping? I need a really, really good fuck and I know where to get it. Stealthily I slip out of bed and into his shirt; as soon as I'm gone, Al grabs my pillow and hugs it. Ah… He looks so pleased with himself. That must have been a very good dream. From my pack I take my favourite toy. Fun times are about to be had, let me tell you.

~*|'-'|*~

Quietly I close the door behind me and immediately after bump into someone small and solid. "There you are," a gruff voice announces out of the blue. "Been looking all over for you." With another one of his filthy chuckles, Oghren waves around a familiar red book. "The waiter said you forgot this at the tavern."

"Oh..." I awkwardly take it from his hands, hiding the pseudo-cock behind my back. "Good of you to bring this to me, Oghren."

"You're welcome," Oghren laughs. His gleefully lascivious expression tells me he's been reading a bit of Lord Stiffington's undertakings. "Look here, girl, I wanted to ask you something."

"Very well, then." My fun will just have to wait a little longer. "What is the matter?"

For a moment the dwarf just stares at me. "Aye, well, you and I... We've uh..." Nervously he raps his fingers on his leg. "You know how sometimes, you spend time with... people, and things... Hm."

"Awww..." I muss up his already pretty messed up hair. "I love you too, Oghren!"

He bursts out laughing and smacks my thigh. "Well, I'll be shaved, skinned and hung up to dry! It's too soon, though, lady. Too soon." Still snickering, Oghren wipes a tear from his eye. "I just wanted to ask a favour."

"Well, anything for my favourite dwarf. Ask away." If he's going to ask for sauce for "that rump roast", I shall be very cross. I told him where to get it, and he never came. Humph. Not that I really expected him to anyway. I mean, what would I have done if he'd showed up in my tent and thrown himself at my feet? Probably laugh myself to death. Or maybe I would have given him a chance, just because I'm so curious. Oh, great. Now even drunken, filthy Oghren seems sexy to me.

"I was thinking; there's this girl I knew back in Orzammar that left for the surface a while ago."

Oho, I can see where this is going. "Special friend of yours?"

"Oh, we coiled the ol' rope, if you know what I mean," he chuckles sleazily. "Oiled the mine shaft. Rubbed the foreman's elbow. Anyway, her name is Felsi; she was a fiery one." Somehow he manages to utter a noise that sounds both longing and filthy at the same time. How does he do it? "She left for the surface about a year back, and I haven't seen her since. Thought maybe I'd track her down."

"I see. Do you know where she is?" Seeing his old girlfriend again might cheer the little rascal up a bit. I don't like seeing him all depressed, and sometimes even listless. It makes me sad.

"Sure. Tried to look her up the last time we were at Lake Calenhad. She wasn't at work at the inn, visiting her sick mother they said, and I figured it was just the ancestors telling me something." His eyes sparkle like emeralds. "But I keep thinking about her anyway."

"You know, you should just go to the Spoiled Princess!" I prod him with my elbow. "I'm sure I can live without you for a few days, hard though it will be. Maybe the arl knows better transportation for you than hoofing it."

Oghren strokes his beard, grinning. "Yeah, I would like that. A good friend you are, Warden. I'll think about you if we ever... Er, well." He grins. "Never mind, it would be kind of gross anyway. I'll return as soon as possible, if that's okay with you."

"Sure, Oghren." I yawn and rub my eyes. "Take as much time as you need."

"Great. I'm sure you have stuff to do, so goodnight, Warden," he rumbles before leisurely walking away. Yes, get away from me before things happen I will regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet that title had you worried there for a moment.


	162. Return to Redcliffe - Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, time for some adult fun.

### Return to Redcliffe - Under Pressure

Heat is coming from the bed in waves, even though the fireplace is cold and unlit. Must be the warm influence of his body. Cool, sharp metal pricks into my skin as soon as I slide under the covers. "You will not find me very easy to kill."

"I'm not here to kill you, Zev." The blade is immediately pulled away.

"Damn it, _fiammina_ , you should know better than to sneak up on me in the dead of night," he sputters. "I could have killed you."

I laugh, the noise loud in the darkness. "Boy, would everyone have been angry with you."

"Little could I blame them." He keeps a polite distance from me, even with the desire sounding through his voice. "What brings you into my bed at this time?"

"I couldn't sleep." Slowly I shift closer, revelling his warmth. "Thought I could visit a good friend."

For a few moments, Zev keeps quiet. "Have you brought cards?" he finally asks in a jovial tone.

"I've brought a book. Maybe I could read you a nice story?" My skin tells me the elf isn't wearing much, if anything at all. Good. Less fancy clothes of his for me to tear to pieces.

"Let me start the fire then."

I stop him from leaving the bed. "Don't be silly." A flick of my wrist, and the fire is roaring. "There, now I can see what I'm saying." His pretty face looks even prettier bathed in this warm orange glow.

"Ah." Zevran's full lips stretch into a mischievous smile. "You look… very enticing in this oversized shirt, _cucciola mia_."

"Thanks." I sigh. "Hey, you know what? I found someone to take care of Collin."

A pair of well-formed arms curve around my waist. "You will miss him, but he will be safe." A soft kiss on my cheek. "So who gets to watch the little boy? Someone I know? Not that bitch arlessa, is it?"

"Nooo, not her. It's the wife of a…" What was Jory to me anyway? I've known him for what, two whole days? "Acquaintance."

"Is this acquaintance another man you have taken to bed?" His tone is curious, as well as... Jealous? No, that can't be.

"Ew, absolutely not." I hope I'm not the kind of girl who sleeps with married men. Apart from that, I didn't find Jory sexy at all. "Just this guy I met at Ostagar."

The elf chuckles amusedly. "Very well. Do you trust this lady?"

"I certainly do." There is no explaining why I do, and why I'm completely sure about my first judgment. I just do. "Ugh, I'm sorry, this is just a little depressing, you know."

He eyes me sympathetically. "I understand. Is there anything I can do to make you feel less gloomy?"

"Read this to me." I hand him the red book. "Start on page four."

" _Amorous Adventures of the Lascivious Lord Stiffington_ ," Zev reads aloud. "Very promising title. Where exactly on page four do you want me to start, _fiammina_?"

I shrug. "Something about his first sexual experience not being how he expected."

"Ah, yes." His honey eyes scan the lines. "Here we are.

_Even with all the intercourse our servants were apparently engaging in, it wasn't until I was fourteen that I had a real sexual experience for myself. And it was not at all the way I had envisioned it would go._

What happened before all this?" Curious, I see.

"Lord Stiffington, ten years old, caught the cook and a maidservant fucking, asked his nanny about it, then caught the three of them fucking. Sometimes he would watch the cook masturbate," I recap.

"I see," the assassin chuckles, comfortably settling in the fluffy pillows. "Let's continue:

_Not a week after my fourteenth birthday (my father gifted me with a purebred stallion, my mother provided a stable boy), a family of peasants moved into the cottage on our property. They were to provide us with food and care for our vegetable garden, because our gardener had passed away. Maker rest his soul. The peasants were a family of four, the parents healthy country folk and their twin children equally robust. I was enchanted by their intense green eyes, hair like golden wheat, ruddy cheeks and cheerful demeanour._

_No ban my parents issued could keep me away from the twins. I did not care that consorting with common folk was unseemly; I could not let a day go by without roughhousing with sweet Anna and sturdy Andrew. Naturally I was trying to get under Anna's skirts. One day, the twins and I were larking about in the barn, when it happened. Anna somehow landed on top of me, giggling sweetly. Her budding bosom (she was already sixteen years of age) pressed against my chest, the softness of it making my head spin. The pretty freckles on her cheeks were magnified a thousand fold as she leaned in to kiss me. Her lips were slightly rough, but they tasted of strawberries and unfulfilled promises. Something in my riding trousers came to life when her tongue slipped into my mouth and my arms fell around her waist._

_Gasping for air, Anna and I broke our kiss. Her eyes were sparkling with mischievous glee, her bosom heaving. "My, my, what have we here?" she drawled in her thick country accent. Her hand found its mark and made me even harder as she firmly stroked my length. "Look here, Andy, I think the young lord actually likes me!"_

_Her brother, whom I had completely forgotten about, replied: "Of course he does, sis. Your freckles bring all the boys to the barnyard, they do!" The young man bared his strong white teeth in a lopsided grin, that for some reason made me feel weak in the knees. My heart began beating even faster when he lay down beside his sister and I, and brought his mouth close to my ear. "What is it you like most about my sister, milord?"_

_"I-I couldn't really-really say," I stammered. "There is so much to like, after all."_

_Anna sat up and grinned at her brother, who positioned himself behind her. His fingers deftly undid her bodice. My eyes were riveted to the bronzed skin slowly coming into my view. Finally Andrew pulled down his sister's blouse, revealing a spectacular set of breasts. They were round as apples, and blushing like a pair of them too. To my great surprise, horror and I must admit, excitement, the young peasant began fondling his twin's lovely chest. She moaned unabashedly as her brown nipples were rolled between his thumbs and forefingers. "Is this what you like best about my sister, milord? Her tits?"_

_The foul word sent a jolt of pleasure straight into my groin. "I-I… I uhm…" Words failed me. All I wanted to do was touch her, with my hands and my mouth. In fact, I was already touching myself."_

This is severely turning me on. Zev's smooth and sexy accent, reading me a sexy story… It's not nearly as silly as it started. The elf gives me a funny look when I hug his waist, my cheek resting on his hard abs. "You don't mind, do you?" My sweetest look is for him as I plant a kiss just above his belly button.

"Of course not, my sweet little flame." There is genuine affection in his eyes, his thumb tracing circles on my cheek. "Are you comfortable?"

"Sure am." I stick my tongue into his navel; he shudders. "Keep reading." This should be good.

"Er, as you wish…  

_"Or maybe…" Here Andrew grinned fiendishly and hiked up Anna's skirts. She was wearing nothing underneath. The first thing I saw was a patch of blonde hairs, slightly darker than the braids she generally wore those on her head in. Then her brother lay his index and middle finger below that patch and splayed them, pulling them upwards. I was blown away. "Maybe this is what you're after, your lordship. My sweet sister's little cunny. You're so wet already," he mumbled into her hair. His finger disappeared between the swollen lips put on display and emerged sopping wet. Anna moaned and tasted her own juices with obvious relish when he-…_

Ah!" Zev draws in a sharp breath upon feeling my hand very, very low on his stomach. "What, why are you…?" He openly moans now, with my forefinger trailing the length of his hard cock. "I only thought…"

"Don't think, just read." Yeah, I wasn't going to return to his bed, but he is a willing male and I know he uses his mouth and fingers well. So why not? If Cullen kills me in a fit of rage, an ogre crushes me, or whatever way the Maker can dream up for me, I don't want to die feeling this awkwardly tense. I would rather be satisfied and smiling from ear to ear. Still no continuation of the story. "What's the matter, crumpet? Something distracting you?" My hand closes around his erection, lazily stroking it up and down.

The assassin squeezes his eyes shut, looking very much like a happy cat, and moans softly. Like music to my ears. "I.. I will manage," he pants. "Where was I again?"

"Anna was sucking her own juices off her brother's finger," I offer helpfully. Zevran doesn't make a noise as I deal a long lick to the tip of his cock, but I can feel his body tighten. He is so sensitive; it's a treat, really. Responsive men are wonderful to be with. "I'm going to suck your cock, and you are going to continue reading."


	163. Return to Redcliffe - A New Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One is never too old to learn.

### Return to Redcliffe - A New Experience

"This will no doubt be better than when I had to read the other orphans bedtime stories." His voice wavers as he continues the story:

 _"Anna moaned and tasted her own juices with obvious relish when he slipped his wet finger into her mouth. I, meanwhile, wished she would wrap her lips around something…_ Ooh _… Something entirely different._

 _My hands had automatically unbuttoned the-the…_ Ah! _Front of my riding trousers; to my surprise I was holding my stiff rod in my hand. I was already throbbing. Andrew showed me another demonic grin and beck-beckoned me closer. "Mayhap you'd like a taste yourself, milord?"_

 _Fiammina_ , stop this if you want me to read to you," Zev sternly rebukes me. His feverish eyes tell me a different story though.

I smile up at him, the head of his cock between my lips. "Oh, come on, surely you have more self control than _this_ ," I mumble.

He raises an amused eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?" His free hand grips my hair, pushing me deeper into his lap. I can only nod my affirmative answer. In response, Zev utters his generous laugh. "I accept.

 _There was, naturally…_ Mmm _… No need to tell me twice. I la-latched onto the girl's firm breast, greedily suckled at it. "Oh, Simon," she moaned delightedly, tangling her hands into my hair. That was the very first time she said my name; mostly it was "Lord Stiffington" this, "your lordship" that… Somehow it made me even-even harder._

 _"So eager," Andrew laughed. "Let me lay her down for you then…"_ A-Astoreth, you lusty little minx… _I moved right along down with her, until we were reclining in the fragrant hay. To this day, the smell of freshly cut hay is one of my favourite smells. My engorged member was resting against Anna's silky inner thigh, but aching to move into a wetter, warmer place than that. I hardly felt my trousers sliding down my legs, my bum being exposed to the warm summer air._

 _A strange, but won-wonderful sensation seized me suddenly as I was nuzzling the triangle of soft blonde hairs above my farm girl's wet slit. I…_ Oh _… looked back to find a pair of twinkling green eyes just above my bare buttocks. Andrew stopped languorously lapping at my backdoor, as soon as he felt my gaze. "You taste lovely, milord," he drawled, licking his lips. "No need for you to be afraid." He laughed at the no doubt strange expression on my face. "You will love everything I do to you, promise." Andrew pressed his groin into my behind, where I felt his growing arousal."_

Zevran obediently carries on with the account, his voice skipping from time to time, but I stop caring. Instead I focus on his gorgeous cock. It throbs against my tongue. Hmmm… Listening with half an ear, I pick up how our horny hero goes down on the peasant girl, and her brother licks his ass. Wow. That's not a bad idea. My mouth is busy, but at least one of my hands is certainly free. The elf abruptly cuts off his sentence, then groans in surprise when I press my spit-slicked fingers to the area just under his balls. I hear this is a sensitive place. "Lower," he commands, his voice all pleasure and excitement. My fingers dip lower, until they find their mark. "Yes, there!" I rub and prod a little. Circle, stroke. He soon gasps. Reading has become wholly unimportant. The book hits my shoulder; both of his hands tangle into my hair; he thrusts his hips upwards. With a muffled moan he fills my mouth with his delectable cum. "You are a true artist with your mouth."

I swallow audibly. Delicious. "Thanks, I do my best. And you really mucked up that challenge."

"I did, did I not?" The bronzed assassin chuckles lazily, a distinctly satisfied expression on his face. The smile lines beside his eyes deepen. "And now? What will you demand of me?"

"Hmm, I don't anything demand anything from anyone." I nestle up to him, my face buried in the crook of his neck. "I was thinking that I really enjoyed what you were doing with my ass that time and that I'd like to explore this a little further. If you're up for it."

"I am most certainly… _up_ for it." He lays my hand on his crotch, letting me feel how much so. Up and hard. "There is, however, something I would like from you in return."

A trade, is it? "Tell me." My hand explores the velvety softness of his skin. His answer baffles me. "A kiss? Is that all?"

"What do you mean, _all_?" His amber eyes flare up in the darkness. "A kiss is nothing less than a privilege." Briefly he pauses. "That is why you avoided it last time, no?"

I didn't exactly _avoid_ it… It just didn't happen. Wait, did he just insinuate that I freely let everyone taste my cunt? Of all the-… Ah, who cares? I'm not going to pick a fight and he probably didn't mean it like that. "Not purposely." Supporting myself on both hands, I lean in and present my lips to him. "Well then, Zevran Arainai, come closer and kiss me."

In a split second his lips crash into mine; soft and sweet, hot and urgent. Straight after this first contact his tongue conquers my mouth. My skin feels as if fire is rushing through it. Gently stroking, his deft hands move up my back, my shoulders, through my hair, to finally cup my face. My arms begin shaking under this sexy assault on my mouth, until I have no choice but to collapse onto his body. I most clearly feel his hard cock pressing into my soft underbelly. He groans when I rub my hip into his groin. My mind is fuzzy as his lips finally let go of mine. "Your face looks breathtaking in this light," Zevran murmurs.

"So does yours." The play of light and shadow there is amazing. If I were any good at painting, which I'm not, I could turn him into a masterpiece. "Are you satisfied?"

"Not quite." With a brief chuckle the elf takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lightly presses another kiss to my lips. "Take off everything, _fiammina_." Somehow I manage to untangle myself from him and strip down to my bare skin. "Now turn around." Zev pushes his chest against my back, while his hands close around my breasts. He kneads and teases my nipples; he kisses my neck and shoulders. One hand stays where it is and the other glides down my stomach. Nimble fingers quickly find my clit.

I come almost as soon as he touches it, moaning and wriggling in his arms. Sadly I am not even afforded a chance to enjoy the afterglow. The Crow has me lie down on my stomach, with a pillow propping up my bum. "So, what exactly are you going to do?" I am dripping with anticipation. And my recent orgasm, of course.

"I am going," Zev blows his breath across my tailbone, "to worship this luscious, magnificent rear of yours." Oh my, he is making me blush. Subsequently he covers the entire expanse of my butt (of course this takes up quite a lot of time) with licks and kisses, his hands massaging me like bread dough. It's pleasant, but not exactly arousing. But then his tongue touches my ass, two fingers simultaneously sliding into my cunt, and oh, _Maker's breath_ … I grip the sheets so hard my knuckles turn white. Almost scream. "Oh no, _tesoro_ …" My companion utters a muffled laugh. "Grab your book; I am most curious as to how the story will unfold." He continues tracing slow circles around my sphincter, pumping his fingers in and out of me. Touching _that_ spot.

"O-o-okay…" It costs me several moments of groping around before I've finally found the damned thing. My hands are shaking. I can hardly open the book. "Where… _Ah_! Where were we?"

Zevran deals a stinging slap to my behind. "Shame on you, for not paying any attention to me." A cooling kiss on the heated area. "Page nineteen, halfway down. Lord Stiffington is about to lose his virginity." He chuckles, a filthy noise that makes me shiver. "In every way possible."

Wow, I've missed quite a lot. Oh, _fuck_. Oh, _yes_. _Oh_ … I should be reading. "He-here we go:

_My legs were trembling and my spine had almost become gelatine. Here I was, fourteen years of age and about to lose my vir-vir-vir…"_

The tongue manipulating my ass suddenly probes deep, making the tiny black letters dance before my eyes. "Zev, please! You're making it almost impossible for me." Instead of answering, his thumb grazes my clit. And now it is truly impossible. I have to bury my face in the mattress so I don't wake everyone in the castle with my crazy orgasm; I can hardly breathe, but oh, is it worth it. Afterwards the bed is soaked and my bones feel like they were made from gelatinous pudding. Dear me. He really knows how to make a girl come.

"Well then, my lady, let us say that we are both easily distracted." My caramel-skinned bedfellow laughs heartily, before his tongue moves lower. Languorously he laps up all liquid coming out of me. Not that it matters, because more is produced every second. "You taste divine."

I giggle, sounding much like a shy schoolgirl. "Why, thank you. You don't taste so bad yourself."

"You are most liberal with your compliments." A single finger circles around my back entrance. "Are you ready for more?"

"Am I ever…" I move upwards, making him slide inside a little, and moan. "I don't have to read anymore, do I?"

He laughingly removes his finger. "We can always read afterwards. Will you hand me that vial on the bedside table? Thank you."

Cold oil drips between my butt cheeks, but thankfully, it warms quickly. Zev carefully rubs it in, before penetrating me with the tip of his slippery finger. Quite contrary to the last time he did this, it feels a little strange. Even more so when he slips in all the way and begins pumping back and forth. It's almost as if… Ew, unsexy thought. "This feels funny."

"It always does at first." Abruptly his movements still. "What is this? A complimentary service for every room?" he asks in a puzzled voice.

I look back and can only laugh at the funny expression on his face, looking at my vibrator. "That is mine, actually. If you press the button, it vibrates." A loud buzzing noise and gleeful giggles. "Yep, you got it."

"This is wonderful!" Zev sounds as happy as a child. "I have never seen such a thing before." He chuckles. "Actually, I have, but not made of metal. And certainly not as noisy."

"Honey…" I wiggle my hips and wink at him. "I need your attention here."

A delighted smile spreads across the elf's pretty face. "Of course, _fiammina_ , I apologize." He bends down to plant a kiss on the small of my back, the infernal buzzing noise gone. "How rude of me to forget all about you and your lovely rear." Once again his finger moves; it doesn't feel weird at all though. It feels _good_. My moaning gets me a friendly pat on the bum. "So responsive… How about a little more, hm?"

"Oh, yes, _please_!" The lack of his touch makes me whimper, but then two digits move to stretch out my ass and I have to stifle a scream. There is a slight pain, nothing I can't handle. So full… The feeling is amazing! "Oh, _fuck_. Zev, give me more," I mewl like a cat in heat.

"Well, aren't we eager?" Impossibly quickly he flips me onto my back. The wide, naughty grin he is sporting sends a pang of lust into my belly. Diving between my thighs, his lips close around my clit. Three fingers rub at my ass, slowly try to slide in. Now the pain is more than slight, more than his expertly flicking tongue can distract me from. Slowly the pain dissipates, until all that remains is pleasure.

I moan and squeal under his attentions, come, come again, then a few more times, until I lose count and just keep climaxing, pulling Zev's smooth locks. Probably way too hard, but he doesn't complain. This takes me back. To Daveth in the Fade. To Jowan. To a love I've lost. How depressing. This is certainly not the time for… Hey, hey, what's going on?

Upon opening my eyes I find Zevran grinning down on me. His chin is all shiny. "So _tesoro_ , are you satisfied?" His hands freely roam my body, coating me in a bit of oil. He smiles at my groan as he pinches my nipples. "Would you like me to do more?"

"Fuck me, Zev." I pull him onto me and briefly kiss him. Then I whisper in his ear: "I want your cock in my ass, now."

"Oh?" He looks down on me with unbridled lust in his eyes. "If you are absolutely sure, I will do all you want."

Maybe I should say no… But why? This will expand my horizons, provide me with even more avenues to pleasure. It's not like I will fall in love with this guy, just because he's been the first to stick it up my butt, or anything. Will I? Nah. "I'm definitely sure. Let me help you." We sit up, allowing me attack his cock once more. I do so love having a nice stiff one in my mouth. Glad he isn't Jowan's size. That would really hurt, I imagine. Blindly I find the vial of oil on the bedside table, tip some into my palm and anoint the elf's cream stick with it. It's such a pretty thing, really, just like everything else about him. "So how does this work?"

"I can get inside you at an optimal angle if you lie down on your stomach," he explains, gently lowering me onto the pillows. "Worked great for my first time, at least."

Oh, _my_. The whole idea of a younger Zevran, in my position and maybe a little nervous, about to be ravished by some fellow is just too much for me. "Be a dear and don't let me wait too long, now."

"I would not be able to make you wait, even if I wanted to." One hand resting on my right butt cheek, he rests the tip of his erection against the entrance to my still (more or less) virgin orifice. "Do not be afraid, _fiammina_. It will hurt, but I shall try my best to minimise this." With that, he pushes inside a bit. Well, this doesn't really hurt… But then he begins inching his way into me, and it suddenly feels as if my ass has been set on fire.

"Argh, _ow_!" I clench my teeth, a single tear falling from my eye. "You were right, this does hurt."

"Sorry." With pity in his voice, he assures me: "I only need to push past the muscle at the entrance, and then it will feel better. I promise." His hand makes long strokes down my back. It doesn't lessen the hurt in any way, but it feels comforting.

I hold on to my pillow for dear life. "All right, please, make it quick." It is exactly as he says: agony for the first few inches, then the pain dulls down. When he is in me all the way, I kind of feel like a rubber band that has been stretched too far. "Do you… Do you have a lot of experience deflowering people's backsides?" I pant.

"I rather do, yes." Zev lies down on top of me, pressing a gentle kiss on the back of my head. "There have been many before you, _fiammina_. You, however, are the first woman I did not have to cajole into doing this."

"I see." I wonder why women won't willingly do this… Sure, the pain. But it will get better. I hope. At least my butt doesn't feel like a volcano anymore. "Why aren't you moving?"

He gives me another kiss, this time on my neck. "I will only move when you tell me to." Promptly his cock throbs a few times, expanding and then shrinking a bit. "That I cannot control."

"I think I'm okay." Again I feel Zev throbbing inside of me, and there is no pain. "Go ahead."

"How does this feel?" Carefully he pulls out, slowly moves back in. "Am I hurting you?"

I moan and tilt my hips for a better angle. "Not at all! Make that a little faster."

"Whatever you want," he whispers, picking up his pace. Every thrust feels almost as good as it would in my pussy. Just in another place, and more shallow. The sensation is concentrated in the entrance alone. Farther in, I feel nothing. But screw it, this feels amazing. " _Fiammina_ , you… You are so tight." His fingers thread through mine, his soft lips treating my neck and shoulders to light kisses. "Does it feel good for you too?" He groans in pleasure while he fucks me, swiftly but gently.

"Oh, _yes_." Tightly I grip his hands and moan under his attentions. Goodness, he's hitting _that_ spot again. "Harder. Fuck me _harder_!" Do try to keep it down, Astoreth; no need to let everyone know you're getting pounded like an obstinate nail. I bury my face in the pillow to keep quiet as my lover complies with my wish. Andraste's mercy! Between moans and groans I can only whimper his name. A new experience. A very good one. With every thrust he pushes against that spot, making me see stars behind my eyelids. That highly uncomfortable feeling of having an overfull bladder passes quickly. Soon I've flooded my thighs and the bed, screaming into my pillow.

While I'm lying here panting, Zev pulls out and turns me over. He slides back in after showing me one of his charming smiles. "I have such a good idea," he tells me proudly. Once again he picks up his old pace. In his hand is my toy. The thing is buzzing like a beehive again. "How would you like having both holes filled?" The scoundrel wiggles his eyebrows the entire time during his filthy, sexy question.

"I think I would love that." With one leg hooked over his shoulder, I'm fully open to him. "Be careful though, just in case."

"When was I ever not careful?" The elf makes me shiver by briefly pressing the vibrator against my button. "Tell me immediately if you feel any pain." Nothing but concentration on his face, Zevran pushes it into me. At least, tries to. Apparently the presence of his cream stick in my butt makes it very difficult. He has to really push hard to get it in there. I'm getting stretched like never before, but it doesn't truly hurt. Oh, my. When both holes are properly filled, my eyes feel as if they're about to pop from their sockets. I have really never been this full before. "Are you all right?" Worriedly, my handsome companion strokes my face. "Speak to me, _fiammina_."

"I-I… Oh goodness, it is as though I'm going to burst." I blink a few times; there is a soreness I hadn't felt before. Maybe this will be the first time I'll be raw after sex. Imagine that. A low moan falls from my mouth as the Crow and the pseudo-cock move out. Both appendages push in deeper after that; the toy rests against Zev's pubic bone and thus simply follows his movements. "Mmm, that's nice." His hand closes around my breast, tweaking the nipple. My entire body becomes one mass of ecstasy the moment the assassin continues his thrusts, hard and fast. Still playing with my breasts.

It's hard to keep focus. I don't want to keep focus. My fingers are tangled into the sheets, my mouth is forming sentences I'm pretty sure are not mine. My ears pick up the filthy squishy noise my wet cunt makes, every time Zev plunges in with wild abandon. The slight pain developing in both orifices finally manages to distract me. I open my eyes to look at the man into whose bed I tumbled. His lovely honey-coloured eyes are half-closed, his features are contorted with lust and pleasure. Beautiful. From parted lips spill sweet moans; a single drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. He smiles, his eyes opening slightly. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Because I like looking at pretty things." I smile back at him and open my arms. Zev all but falls into them, allowing me to wrap him into my embrace. His lips, and then his tongue, find mine with ease. We kiss and kiss, with him still fucking me enthusiastically. For a very long time, we are a bunch of entangled limbs, pale and bronzed skin sticking together, hips thrusting and meeting. Muffled moans in a half-dark room.

Ultimately my lover untangles himself from around me and looks me in the eye. "I cannot hold off for much longer, _cucciola mia_ ," he breathes. "The delights of your body are too much for me to resist." His face is strained, muscles in his jaws twitching.

"Then come." Grinning wickedly, I tighten all of my intimate muscles at once. "Come, and fill me with your seed." I watch his eyes widen in surprise, then shut tightly. His entire body tenses. With a low growl he lets loose, arching his back. A flurry of Antivan phrases I cannot understand fly from his mouth.

With a long sigh, Zevran collapses on top of me. "Maker's breath!" The grin on his face is content, his blond locks dark with sweat. "I cannot remember the last time a woman exhausted me so."

"I cannot remember the last time a man got me sore." I break into a laugh. "It's never happened before, actually."

"Poor little Warden." Clicking his tongue, the elf carefully pulls himself and the lone appendage out of me. We've been at it so long, the thing has run out of energy. "Let me kiss it better for you, yes?" His tongue, now cooling rather than heating, runs over the sore area. He ends his treatment with a kiss to both assailed orifices. How sweet. They still hurt like the blazes, but it's sweet. "How was this first time for you, _fiammina_?"

I stretch and yawn, fully satisfied. "It was wonderful. You are amazing."

"That is the gist of what you were screaming earlier," he chuckles smugly, settling into bed once more. The sodden, messy bed. "No woman has ever complimented me so."

"Uhm…" My cheeks turn red. "I'm glad you're flattered." I don't think I really want to know what I was saying. Gladly I take Zev up on his invitation to nestle in his arms. Mmm. Comfy. Images of my baby pop into my head, but I quickly push them away. He is fine. Collin is well taken care of. I will see him tomorrow, when I say goodbye. Before I leave for the Landsmeet.

The Crow smiles at me. "Are you all right?" The little red book is in his hands again, opened where I had previously closed it. His smile turns wider at my nod. "Good, good. Now, shall we continue?"

I snuggle up a little more closely to Zev's warm body. "Do go on."

"Very well, here we go." He clears his throat and continues on with Stiffington's adventures:

_"My legs were trembling and my spine had almost become gelatine. Here I was, fourteen years of age and about to lose my virginity to two lusty twins. While I slowly inserted my almost painfully engorged rod into Anna's warm, wet snatch, Andrew carefully filled my at that point still virgin bum with his unfeasibly large cock, wet with my spittle…"_

Crap, I missed that bit! "Hey, Zev?"

"Yes, my lovely?"

"Go back to where Lord Stiffington was sucking that Andrew fellow's cock, please?"

He laughingly presses a kiss to my forehead. "Whatever you want, _fiammina_. Whatever you want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends this bit of the adventures of Astoreth and friends. Tune in at a later unspecified date for more - unless it's already there by the time you read this, of course.


	164. The Road to Denerim - With My Corpse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventurers are on the road to Denerim. Thankfully, they don't have to walk this time.

### The Road to Denerim - With My Corpse

_Sadly, after spending many a blissful afternoon impaled on Andrew's pecker and buried in Anna's cunt, I once arrived at their farm to find out the twins had contracted some terribly contagious disease. Their parents would not let me see them, for fear I would catch it too. Within a week they had died. Not once did I get to speak with them, to say goodbye or to tell them how much I'd appreciated their company, and I miss them to this day. So here's a toast to Andrew and Anna._

Aww… That's so sad.

_Their place in my erotic adventures would be taken by another, however. Almost a year later I was done grieving and taken by the urge to take my new horse, Stargazer (hideously theatrical name, but my father insisted upon it, for the great beast had a star-shaped spot on its forehead), out for a ride. So there I went, into the stables. Where I found my stable boy on his back in the hay, busily running his hand up his flagpole. And what a sizeable one it was. At first the lad did not even notice my presence, so occupied was he. My fingers were itching to stroke myself, my bunghole begging to be pounded by that huge rod. But that, dear reader, was not the only thing I wanted. Finally I loudly cleared my throat, and the boy's eyes flew open. He promptly sprang to his feet, simultaneously trying to button up his trousers. "M-my lord!" he stammered. "I-I uh, I did not expect to see you here…"_

_"Yes, Walter, I can see that." I gave him a stern look with my arms folded before my chest. "If I tell mother, she will not be pleased. You will probably need to find yourself another job."_

_Walter immediately sank to his knees. "No, my lord! I beg you, please do not tell the mistress! If I fail to bring home money every week, my brothers and sisters shall go hungry and starve to death." His hands were clasped together, his face looking decidedly wretched. No doubt he was praying to blessed Andraste for mercy. The Prophet has better things to do than aid naughty servants, I'm sure. "Please, my lord, have mercy. I will do anything!"_

_Ah, I remember how those magic words sent a tingle down my spine. "How fortunate, dear Walter, because I know a thing or two you can do for me…"_

Oh, goodness. I am positively addicted to this naughty piece of literature. I was thinking about sending it to Cullen, but I think it's just too... well, _fruity_ for him. Somehow I think the templar is the kind of guy who shies away from same-sex relationships. And there is no romance at all. It's just a string of purely physical affairs. Sexy, depraved affairs. It makes for rather delicious reading.

We're on the way to Denerim. In horse-drawn carriages, my word! I never thought I'd see the day. It's comfortable; I even have extra time to read. I really miss Collin, but I'm mostly glad that he is safe. My chest, though! Ugh. Heavy with no prospect of relief. Unless I let someone else drink from me, but no. Just, no. I'll get over it. Poor Alistair is severely hung-over from his drinking last night. He's listlessly leaning his head against my shoulder and complaining about how much it hurts. Honestly, I'm quite glad that we're not embroiled in some serious conversation about what happened between us. I doubt he even remembers it.

Good old Oghren left for the Spoiled Princess very early this morning; the arl was kind enough to lend him a small horse. I hope he doesn't fall off and hurt himself. He and Felsi should kiss and make up. Apparently they had a falling out that I don't want to know anything about, but I have faith in Oghren's diplomatic abilities. Haha, I don't think I could even think that with a straight face. Maybe he'll innuendo his way back into her heart. That is more likely. Ah. I really do want to see him happy. After all that crap with Branka, he deserves it.

"Asteeeer," Alistair weakly whines into my ear. "My head huuuuurts..." Stubbs, who is resting his head on his friend's leg, howls in sympathy. "Nooo! Ow, now my head hurts even mooooore..."

Across from us, Morrigan groans angrily. "Blood and damnation! I have had it with your incessant complaints!" She tosses a small bottle into his lap. "Drink this."

"I don't wanna." Al tugs at my arm. "Could you rub my forehead for me, please? I think-... Bah!" With a whole lot of noise, he sputters indignantly. "That's disgusting! Ew, _Morrigan_... Hey, I feel better."

The witch puts the cork into the bottle again, her face looking decidedly more content. "Good, now at least we shall all be free of your constant whining."

"Oh, I was not bothered in the slightest," Zevran chuckles. "It is a man's prerogative to complain about little aches and troubles, after all." Just hearing his voice and seeing him sitting there is enough to make me think of last night, and shiver.

Morrigan queries incredulously: "Even men like Alistair, who are supposed to be strong?"

" _Especially_ men like Alistair!" The Crow lets out another one of his attractive laughs; I shiver again.

"Are you cold?" The Warden ignores the others' conversation, pulling me against his chest. Hmm. It is warmer here. "Is that better? No, wait, just come here." Before long I'm nicely nestled in his arms and sitting on his lap. Good thing Wynne isn't in this carriage. She'd have chased me away in three seconds flat. Sten and Shale would call it disgusting, no doubt.

Naturally, this intimate situation is also met with some opposition from those that _are_ present in this carriage. "'Tis a good thing to get along well, but must you two always be so public about it?" The witch glares at me as if I've just barged into her tent unannounced.

"Come, dear Morrigan, perhaps we should follow their example," my favourite elf purrs. He tries to wrap his arms around her and fails miserably. "Ah, the witch despises me and the Warden is already spoken for. Such is my luck." He sighs in feigned despair, meanwhile sending me a sly wink. Mmm, just you wait until I get you alone. "How long until we reach Denerim, you think?"

Alistair shrugs. "Four, five days, Arl Eamon told me. Which is a lot better than the two weeks or whatever that it would have taken us to walk all this way."

"I agree." Zevran leans back into the cushions, hands folded behind his head. "I could get used to such luxury."

"I find it too confining," Morrigan unexpectedly mingles into the conversation. "I would rather take flight. There is more freedom to be had that way."

I shrug. "Hey, if you want to spread your wings and fly, be my guest. As long as you're careful."

"Truly?" The witch looks at me, pleasantly surprised. "I shall be with you when we set up for camp, of course." A single flash of light, and she has taken on the form of a raven. The bird caws, then flies out the window.

Al keeps his gaze fixed on her disappearing form for a while. "I may hate her guts, but those transformations are fascinating."

"So is my book," I say. "Hint, hint."

"Aw, okay." He allows me to get off him, looking all pouty and cute. "Too bad. You're a bit like a very large housecat."

"In that I'm really lazy and tend to lick myself a lot?"

The elf helpfully adds: "Not to mention that shiny coat of fur. Whatever do you feed her? Tuna? Or just the usual dry kibble?"

"My Aster gets nothing but the best!" Alistair pets me as if I'm an actual cat. "The best fish and even better kibble."

"Stop that crazy talk right meow!" I kick off my boots and curl into the corner Morrigan was sitting before. "I'm going to read my book."

"Don't be so boring!" With a mischievous grin, Zev makes to tickle me. "Here, kitty, kitty..."

This is the perfect moment to use my ultra shiny deluxe death glare. "No. I'm busy." Now with extra icy voice for added effect!

"Humph." He haughtily folds his arms before his chest. "You are no fun."

"Yeah, yeah." Now where was I? Ah, yes... Excellent.

_Young Walter was so very eager. He almost jumped at my delicately put offer. Before long, we had helped one another undress and stood in the stable the same way we had come into this world. It was quite obvious that his life as a menial labourer had reaped its benefits: his body was quite the sight to behold. His lips trembled as I pressed my own against them, but soon he was happily devouring my mouth and eagerly pressing himself against me, where I could feel the well-developed muscles in his broad upper body. And something else that was also very well-developed._

_Blushingly the lad allowed me to coax him to his knees. He was hesitant to touch my by then achingly hard erection. "Gee, my lord, that's an awfully big one," he whispered in what sounded like fear._

_"Don't be afraid, dear boy." I patted his head. "It will not bite."_

_The stable boy laughed heartily. "Thank the Maker for that then, my lord!" Forthwith he wrapped his lips around the tip, and oh reader, it was as if I'd died and gone to the Golden City itself. His mouth was hot, wet, and eager. Obviously he had never done this before, for his teeth grazed me more than once, but his enthusiasm truly made up for this minor liability. One has to start somewhere, no?_

Best book ever. I will keep this close to my heart until the day I die. In fact, I want them to burn it along with my corpse.


	165. The Road to Denerim - Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth feels as if she might be possessed by horny demons. What else is new?

### The Road to Denerim - Surprises

Seems like I'm done with grieving over Jowan. I still feel the ache, right there in my heart, but it's dull and barely there. He is where he wants to be, and as a Tranquil, he couldn't care less about me. So why should I tear myself apart over this? It's pointless. Just like the promise he had me make to come visit him. Still, I will keep it. I promised, after all. Maker's breath, when will everyone be asleep? Leave, come on. Go to bed. Go to sleep, the horny mage compels you.

I need to see Zev, right now. You'd think that after last night's exercises, I would be satisfied for at least a few days to come. Not so. It's just like when I was with Cullen. Always ready for more. Ah... This is the perfect set-up. Kind of like I thought it would be with Jowse, but hopefully without falling in love or some such nonsense. Hmm, I might as well go for a walk first. Cool down a bit before things heat up.

It's cold, as it is every night. I don't think there is such a thing as a Fereldan summer. No wonder everyone is huddled around the fire like that. Even Morrigan is there, talking with Leliana. Or rather, Leliana talks to her. Neat. Looks like the witch is really trying to fit in. My lover, for lack of a better word, isn't among them. Alistair waves happily when I pass by; I wave back. I feel that he wants me to sit with him, but I won't. Surely he doesn't want me humping his leg in front of everyone, just because I'm in such dire need of intimacy. Dry twigs snap and leaves crunch under my boots. There are a lot of trees here; lots of places to hide. No darkspawn though. Thank Andraste for that.

Out of the blue a hand covers my mouth, my skirt being hiked up past my waist by another (rather impatient) one. "Don't scream, _fiammina_. It is only I." Zevran nips playfully at my ear. "I could not wait, knowing you were all alone out here." A rustle of cloth, and he is deep inside of me. "Ah, you feel as delightful as ever." His whispered words make me clench tightly around him; it's the fucking accent. For a while he doesn't even move, just teasingly chuckles into my ear.

I squirm and pull his hand away from my mouth. "Will you start thrusting already, you big meanie?"

"No." He squeezes my breast, his thumb grazing the nipple. "This is only to give you a taste. I have a surprise for you, but you must be patient, _tesoro_." And just like that, he has slipped out of me and into the darkness. Without a trace. That evil, evil son of a bitch. Well, I might let him off the hook if that surprise is good. It has to be _really_ good if he wants to escape whatever punishment I can dream up for him. Definitely something with torture. Yes.

For now, it seems like I have to take care of myself. I drop to my knees in the soft earth and slide a hand into my panties. Pfff, I'm wet enough to drown the inhabitants of a small village. Moisture is flowing down my inner thighs. Zev, you cunt, I'll get you for this. A choked moan exits my throat as I trace little circles around my clit. Mmm, it's been too long since I've done this manually. The vibrator is so much quicker. Not by much, though, in this case. I come in under a minute, my lip caught between my teeth. Still a few whimpers manage to escape. I hardly feel better. Out of breath and hot, but not sated in the least. I should just stay away from myself, really.

Suddenly the snap of a twig that's stepped on sounds, and some rustling of leaves. "Uh, anyone there?" How embarrassing. Nobody, though. Probably just some animal. As if to distract me, my stomach growls loudly. Oh, well, then I might as well have some food while I wait for my surprise.

"Hi Aster," Alistair says sweetly as I sit myself beside him, a bowl that's filled to the brim with our dinner in my hand. The place has cleared out; soon everyone will be sleeping. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." The stew is all right; I suppose my favourite Warden's cookery skills are improving. "You?"

He makes a so-so gesture. "Could be better. I've got this cramp that just won't go away."

"Would you like me to massage it for you?" With a happy ending on the house. _Leave him alone_. Ugh, it's like I'm possessed by lusty demons or something. "It might help."

"Oh, would you? That would be great." His pretty eyes send me a grateful look. "The sooner, the better. Like, right now."

I nod, and gesture to his tent. "Be with you in a moment." I finish my stew on the way to my tent and while searching for my fragrant lemon oil. So sad I haven't used it in such a long time. It reminds me of Jowan, and how he dreamt that I was Lily. I'm over that now. How would Lily be doing? Is she dead, or just batshit insane and writing bad poetry on the walls of Aeonar with her own faeces? I wouldn't know which is worse. Probably the insanity. "Okay Al, here I am, ready to... Uh..." What did I come here for again? The lack of clothes kind of makes it hard to think. And even harder to look away. Oh, all that glorious chest hair...

Alistair explodes with laughter. "Step right up! Don't be shy, ladies, the merchandise is here to be touched and viewed at your leisure!" Heh. I'd definitely buy _these_ goods. "Ow." His face contorts in pain. "That cramp keeps coming back."

"Where's the problem?"

I nearly swallow my tongue when the boy turns back his blanket over one leg; his bare hip indicates that he is without smallclothes. Again. "Left thigh." He grabs my hand to lay it on the area in question.

"Wow, it's as hard as stone here." Hands coated in oil, I try to dig my fingers into the muscle. It hardly yields. "What did you do?" That poor, poor thing. This must hurt.

"I have no idea." Despite the obvious pain, he grins wickedly. "I could show you something else that's as hard as stone though." The grin immediately fades, embarrassment kicking in.

Say what now? As I continue kneading the cramped muscle, I gauge the look on his face. He seems to be serious. "So you _do_ remember."

"All the alcohol in the world couldn't make me forget about having your naked body under me." His fingertip traces my lower lip. "How about we uh, continue where we left off?" His tone is sultry, albeit a bit shaky. How cute.

"We should see about this leg first." I can sink deeper into the flesh now; the problem seems to be abating. "It simply won't do for you to cramp up while we're good and busy."

My companion's eyes take on a happy sparkle. "That's true." The joy in his voice is unmistakable. I'm tired of denying him, you know. He's asked me for a kiss, tentatively tried to seduce me. He obviously wants me and I've wanted him since, oh, Lothering. As long as he knows that we're not going to get married and start a happy family or something, it should be fine. And Zev? Well... I'm just going to go ahead and confirm the promiscuous image of mages. Nobody ever said I couldn't have my cake and eat it too. I love cake. "Hey, I'd like to tell you something." Just as I'm about to ask what, he starts rattling: "Remember how you asked me if I'd dreamed in that demon camp in the forest and I said I had this twelve foot table with lots and lots of cheese on it? Well, I lied. It was actually more of a... five foot table." He looks away, blushing.

"Uhm, okay, so you exaggerated, I don't see why-..."

" _You were the table!_ " he blurts out. "I dreamt about eating my favourite treat right off your skin, from every little part of you, even-even, uhm..." Tiny whimper. "Down _there_."

Hm. Then I suppose I have a little confession to make as well. "I lied to you too. I dreamt that I was bathing, and you joined me, touched me. You know."

"Oh?" Finally he dares to look me in the eye. "Come a little closer, will you?" he whispers urgently.


	166. The Road to Denerim - It's A Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth and Alistair get more intimate. It's about time.

### The Road to Denerim - It's A Date

Gladly. His pain forgotten, Al wraps me in his arms. Wish I were naked too. His mouth conquers mine in a hungry kiss, tongue slipping in almost immediately. Sweet ass of Andraste, he's been practising. Then his hand glides along the inside of my thigh, and I almost melt away. Sadly he makes no move at all to touch my more sensitive areas. Time to set him a good example. Spreading my legs a little, I slowly guide his hand in between them. Abruptly he breaks away from me with a gasp. He hesitantly strokes the wet fabric. "Oh, M-Maker, this is..." His fingers touch a particularly responsive spot, making me whimper; he chews his lip, a look of bewilderment and delight on his face. In turn, he lays my hand in his crotch.

"Mmm, dear me." His rigid flesh throbs in my hand as I explore this unknown territory. Hard as stone indeed. I like. I like a lot. His size is pure perfection: Cullen's length, and Jowan's girth. The two men I like most, combined in one. "You know..." I smirk at poor Alistair, who seems to be getting more and more nervous by the second, and lick my lips. "I can't wait to taste you," I murmur, simultaneously rubbing my thumb over the opening.

"Uh oh…" He tenses up, and hot cream shoots all over my hand. "I-I'm so sorry! This, this is very embarrassing." His cheeks are red, his breath comes out in rapid gusts. "Dear Maker..."

Wow. That is a lot of cum. I ostentatiously lick my hand, sending my blushing friend the sexiest looks I can manage. His eyes nearly pop from their sockets, heh. "Yummy." It's so tasty, especially with that hint of lemon, I think I'll have a little more. Bending down to suck his cock into my mouth, I find he's not even gone soft. My word. Every tiny little droplet of his liquid disappears down my throat. Mmm, I've wanted to do this for such a long time and now it's happening. Even if this turns out to be another one of those dreams, it's so worth it. One hand splayed over his stomach, I explore the feel of his sexy abs. My mouth and tongue coax forth all kinds of moans and groans, mixed with panted phrases of disbelief at the situation. Not to be mean, but: "Hey, how's the cramp?" I run my fingers over the area, which is tense and straining. Though I suppose his entire body is at the moment.

"What cramp?" he groans desperately. "Please, Aster, _don't stop_." His hands continue clutching at his blankets, even though I know he must be itching to grab me. "Please..."

"Don't be shy, handsome." I place his right hand on my head. "You can show me how you want me to do this, you know. Slow..." Long, languid lick. "Fast..." A rapid swirling of the tongue around the tip. "Maybe you would like me to suck harder, or barely touch you. It's up to you, sweetie." I wink up at him. "This is your party."

Al bites back a particularly loud moan as I wrap my lips around the tip again. "M-Maker, this must be an Orlesian kind of party!"

"No, it's purely Fereldan," I tell him between licks. "You know why? There's no cake involved."

"Sod the cake, just keep going." Both hands on my head now, he urges me to go quicker, even dares to lightly thrust his pelvis upwards. "Mmm, Aster, this is... You're so..." With a half-suppressed grunt, the boy spends his seed in my mouth. He utters a long sigh when the tremors in his body have receded. "That was amazing."

We exchange a quick kiss, after I've thoroughly swallowed everything. "Yeah? Looks like you've enjoyed yourself." He looks all rosy and content. That's just so adorable.

"Well, _yes_ , but what about..." His cheeks turns even redder. "You know?"

"The deed? Penetration? Deflowering? Frisky fornication?" I can't help but smile at his bashful nod and averted eyes. "Not here. I want you to have a real bed, and thick walls, so we can make as much noise as we bloody well want to."

Alistair hums in thought. "Not a bad idea. Uhm, will there be a lot of noise?"

"That all depends on you, doesn't it?" For a moment I press his face to my bosom in a hug. "Sweet dreams."

"Hey..." He grabs my arm when I make to leave his tent. "Where are you going? Stay with me."

Those puppy eyes won't work on me today. I have a surprise I'm dying to see. "I can't. I'm already otherwise engaged tonight." This is the moment of truth. If he tells me I belong to him now, he can go and try to take his own damn virginity.

"Oh," he replies in a small voice. "I see."

"Look here, Alistair." I grasp both of his hands and press a kiss to each palm. "You're my friend, and I love you, but I can't... _love_ you. Know what I mean?"

He nods gravely. "Sure. I really wasn't aiming for that, to be honest, so I'm glad that you feel the same. We've travelled together for months; if you haven't made me feel those butterflies by now, you probably never will." His lips curl into an apologetic grin. "No offense. You're still pretty and all..."

"Oh, it's such a relief you're not going all territorial on me." Zevran would probably get his ass kicked thoroughly. And that would be a shame. "Then you're okay with this?"

"I will try not to get too jealous." Al cups my chin between his fingers to peck me on the mouth. "So, tomorrow night then?"

I smile, then nod. "It's a date."

"Good." His arms fall around my waist and pull me closer to him. "Before you go, though; you've been very nice to me. Any chance I can be just as nice to you?" He suckles at the spot in my neck that drives me crazy. "I can hardly let you leave like this." Slowly my panties are peeled off my hips.

"Well, if you put it like that…" I allow him to lay me on my back and open my legs. "So what do you think?" He blinks. There is nothing but pure fascination in his expression. And then, suddenly, without warning of any kind, the boy just plunges his face between my thighs and puts his tongue to work. Funny. I have a man licking my naughty bits, a very eager one at that, and all he does is make me giggle. "Al, sweetie, let me give you a few instructions."

He raises his head, smacking his lips. "Oh, it's not working for you?" With a content hum, my fellow Warden collects moisture from his chin. "You're as delicious as I'd thought you would be." His earlier demeanour of sweet shyness has changed; now he's all confidence. Mmm, sexy, sexy. "Teach me."

I grab his hand, guiding the index finger to the essential places. "This little round thing here, is my clit. If you lick or stroke it long enough, you'll make me come." Then the lips. "You know these already; not much happens here. They're just squishy, I guess." And finally… "This is where you're going to put your cock when we get to a real bed." His finger slides into my wet heat. "Feel that?"

"Maker's breath, I can't wait," he moans, pumping back and forth. "Denerim is still days away!"

"True, but you know what they say..." Slowly I guide his face to where I want it. "Good things come to those who wait." Gasp. Oh, someone is a quick learner. "Yes, _just_ like that!" His tongue rapidly flicks my clit, while he continues fucking me with his finger. Again I'm mewling like a cat in heat, pulling at the poor thing's hair. I don't want to hurt him, but really, control over my body is nowhere to be found in these situations. "Oh, fuck, _Alistair_!" The excitement from finally getting intimate with my dear friend has made me very sensitive already; the movements of his tongue have me climaxing in under two minutes. "Holy crap," I pant afterwards. "You're good for a beginner."

Lazily he strokes my face, grinning down on me with obvious pride on his features. I rub my cheek against his hand in a reflex and am rewarded with a happy gasp. "You really are like a cat," he chuckles. "My sweet little kitty…"

"Aw, come on, don't make fun of m... Mmm." His lips find that spot in my neck again. "You're making it very hard for me to leave you." I… don't even want to go. But my surprise!

"Don't worry, kitty." He quickly releases me, after a final cuddle. "Shoo. Have fun." A smug grin spreads across his face. "I will see you tomorrow night, and let's see then if you can resist me."

A draft reminds me of something. "So uh, where are my panties?"

" _Your_ panties? Forget it, they're mine now." With a great big smile on his face, he twirls the little piece of fabric around his index finger.

"Are you going to wear them?" I doubt they will fit, although it makes for an interesting mental image.

He makes a face. "Maker, no. I will hide them under my pillow and sometimes bring them out to fondly hug them to my chest..."

"That's the third pair I've lost to a man so far," I sigh dramatically. "One day I might end up walking around pantiless."

"Let me know when that happens." His eyebrows wiggle in suggestion. "You know, some cake would actually be quite nice right about now."

"I know, right?" Bending over my friend, I press a kiss to his cheek. "But we Grey Wardens can't have nice things, apparently. Sleep well."

He yawns, buries himself in his bedroll. "Night."

All the way to my tent, it feels like I'm moving in a dream. This is strange, and exciting. It will be fun, teaching Alistair everything I know. And then Zev's surprise… I'm very curious. Nightgown: on. Panties: still missing. All set. Now we wait.


	167. The Road to Denerim - Zevran's Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What oh what could it be that the Crow has up his sleeve?

### The Road to Denerim - Zevran's Surprise

The whisper of a foreign word in my ear awakens me. When did I fall asleep? Man, is it pitch dark in here. I can't see a single thing. " _Fiammina_ ," Zevran whispers again. "Are you ready?"

"Finally, you're here!" Wait, there is something around my head. "What is...?"

"No, leave that alone." He stops me from removing that thing. "I have blindfolded you for your surprise."

Kinky. "That's promising." I allow him to help me up and outside. The curiosity is just about to bloody kill this kitty. "Where are we going?"

"Patience, patience." Hands on my shoulders, the elf guides me forward. "You will see soon enough. Watch out, _tesoro_ , there are a few steps up ahead. Actually, wait." He sweeps me off my feet, and suddenly I feel like a spoiled princess. The steps creak loudly as soon as we step on the first one. I know where we are. "My goodness, Astoreth, you are not the lightest of women," he pants laughingly.

"Hey, you want dainty, you go find Morrigan." How dare he?

"It was not my intent to insult you; it was merely an observation." Once inside, the sound tells me that Zev has sat down. He soon pulls me into his lap. We must be very close together, since I can feel his breath on my face. "Can you guess where I've taken you?"

"Into one of the carriages."

The assassin chuckles. "Yes, how very perceptive of you. We shall leave the blindfold on for now."

"So what's the point of putting me in a new setting if I don't get to see it anyway?" Not being able to see what he will do to me is hot, but we could do that in my tent too.

"What?" For a moment he stays silent, until the man bursts out laughing. "You think _that_ is your surprise? Sweet, silly little thing." His hands glide down the curve of my ass. "No, you see, there is a certain gentleman who looks at you a certain way..."

Oh really? "Who? Someone I know?"

"No, miss, but I wouldn't mind changing that," an unknown voice speaks behind me.

"What the..." Someone was in here with us the whole time, and I didn't even notice. Some Grey Warden I make. "So what's the meaning of this? Who are you?" Heat burns in my face, my heart is racing. Maker's breath.

The anonymous man chuckles briefly. Nice voice, very deep. "The name's Virgil, miss. I drive one of the coaches for Arl Eamon. Saw you around Redcliffe a few times, and... Uhm…"

"I couldn't help but notice the way this young man was staring at you in camp, and seeing last night, I thought you might enjoy having two men at your disposal," Zev pitches in helpfully. "So what do you say, _fiammina_?"

"Oh, I say bring it on." I've officially become a total slut. And why not? I'm young, curious, and only have thirty or so years to live. Might as well make those years count. I hope one of them knows how threesomes work, because I definitely do not.

Luckily, Zevran takes charge. He lifts me off his lap and plants me on the floor on my knees. "Now, hold out your hands..." Obediently I do as he says. He must know what he's doing.

"Huh, why?" Virgil asks in a curious tone of voice, then laughs. " _Oh!_ "

Two very interesting objects touch my palms. "Well, this is certainly intriguing..." Two cocks, both of a nice size. And they're both for _me_! Could I be any happier at this moment? Probably not. "Zev, let me just tell you now that this is already the best fucking surprise I've ever had." My voice sounds like that of a giddy schoolchild.

"You are very welcome," he chuckles, wrapping his hand around mine to guide my movements. "My friend, why so shy?"

"I, well, I don't do this every day, you know!" the other man sputters. His erection grows a little softer. "It's all new for me."

Fixing his shyness should be easy. I bend my head in his direction, flicking the tip of my tongue along the length of his cock. He gasps happily and becomes harder than he was before. Mmm, how I love playing the flesh flute. And now I've got another one to play with too, oh my goodness. Joy… Cannot contain myself from it… The boys moan and gasp as I alternate them between my hands and mouth. So much fun, eep!

"You are doing so well, _fiammina_." Zev approvingly pats me on the head. "We are both getting the same amount of attention. Isn't she doing well, Virgil?"

He moans. "Huh, what? Yeah, awesome…"

"But here we are being spoiled, while it was my plan to spoil you," purrs my favourite elf. Once again he picks me up, landing me on his lap. With my back to him, this time. "Are you ready for me, my pet?" His hard-on rests against my lips. And here I thought I couldn't possibly get any wetter. "Tell me you want me." His mouth touches my ear with every word.

"You bastard, you've been teasing me enough already... Please, _please_ , fuck me."

"I swear," Virgil supports me, "if you don't do it right now, I will." Aw, my knight in shining armour!

Zevran laughingly skewers me to his rod, slowly going in all the way. "Patience! You will get your turn." His hands slide under my nightie and close around my breasts. Oh, I haven't let Alistair play with them yet. I'm sure he will like the feel of boobies. Mmm... This guy here really knows how to touch me.

"Wow, look at that." Another pair of hands glides down the insides of my open thighs. "I can't believe how lucky I am right now," Virgil gushes. Warm breath brushes me, down there. Is he going to... Oh, my. Yes. Yes, he is. While his tongue is happily going to town on my lady parts, I bury my hands in the man's hair. Ooh, it's all soft, and fine, and quite long. Damn it, Jowan, why did you have to leave me? Where on earth did that come from? This so isn't the time for that. With one man lightly thrusting into me and playing with my breasts, and another one giving my clit a thorough tongue-lashing, I should be having the time of my life. So why aren't I? Maker's breath, this isn't the time to fall into a fit of grief.

" _Fiammina_?" Zev's tone of voice betrays his worry. "What is the matter? Why are you so quiet?"

"Do you need me to change my technique?" Virgil asks. "I can go quicker, slower, harder, whatever you want."

I sigh and slump back against Zevran. "No, that's not it at all, your technique is great, I just..." A treacherous tear slips from the corner of my eye. "Zev, I just keep thinking about Jowan, and..." My voice breaks. Damn it all. You're a sentimental fool, Astoreth.

"Ah, _merda_." Something tells me that isn't a nice word. "Come then, little one, and lie down." The elf carefully deposits me on the couch. "Let me take this off for you." Even the slight glow of the oil lamp hurts my eyes after the time spent in near impenetrable darkness. "There, is that better?" With a sweet smile on his face, Zev runs his fingers through my hair.

Another face hovers over me. This blond fellow isn't extremely handsome, but his face is so very friendly-looking. "So… Who's Jowan?"

"He's..." A sob tightens my throat. "Oh crap, I'm so sorry..." And there go the floodgates. This is all your fault, stupid blood mage.

"Jowan was her childhood friend and lover," Zevran explains quietly. "You may have heard of him, the blood mage who poisoned Arl Eamon? She recently had to turn him over to the Circle of Magi."

Virgil makes a hissing noise. "Oh, _that_ guy. That was a stupid thing he did. Still, I'm sorry for your loss." Gingerly he pats my hand. "My twin was a mage too. I cried my eyes out when she was taken away." He shakes his head. "Never heard another word from her."

"That's, that's terrible," I sniffle. "I'm sorry. It's just… Jowan's been made Tranquil, he will never be the same again."

"That's even worse," the human replies, wincing. "Those guys are so creepy. I'm really sorry. Look, Warden, is there anything we can do for you? Maybe something to distract you from your troubles?"

"How about a hug?" Zev suggests. He's already embraced me before I can even answer. That's... sweet. It's good to have friends like these.

Virgil promptly flings his arms around the both of us. "Group hug!" Moments later, he begins sniffing audibly. "Maker, who smells so nice?"

"Is it a cinnamon smell?" Far as I know, I don't smell like anything. Lemon, maybe.

"Yeah, it's so... Oh, it's _you_!" The man buries his face in Zev's neck. "Andraste's tits, that's nice. Can I also tell you, that you're the prettiest elf I've ever laid eyes on?" From the noises, I can tell he's begun planting some choice kisses. Oh, my. That could have been you, Jowse, but you just had to let the guilt suck you in. Conscience-ridden fool.

The assassin promptly releases me. "This was not quite what I had in mind..." A low moan issues forth from deep within his throat. Not unlike those I elicited from him myself last night. "But let it never be said that I look gift horses in the mouth. _Tesoro_ , I..."

"Oh, never mind me." I snuggle in the corner. A blanket would be nice right now. "I'll just enjoy the show." This might take my mind off things.


	168. The Road to Denerim - The Best-Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best-laid plans of mice and men oft go astray. Not to mention the plans anyone dreams up in this story.

### The Road to Denerim - The Best-Laid Plans

Virgil looks up, his dark blue eyes glazed over. Somehow they seem familiar, though I have no idea why this would be the case. "Wouldn't you rather get involved?" Well, then. His voice is hoarse and he seems more into Zev than into me.

"Why? You obviously prefer men over women." Not that I'm bitter about that or anything. Everyone likes what they like.

"Mmm, I guess I do," he drawls while peeling the moaning elf's shirt off. Zev has stopped talking altogether. "But _you_ are adorable." With a wink he pinches my cheek. "We understand if you're in no mood for this though. Don't we, my sexy little elf?"

Said sexy elf is squirming like an eel under the roaming hands and lips. "Yes, comple… _Ooh_ … Completely."

It's a beautiful sight. Last night, Zevran was the one in control. And now? Mmm. He meekly allows his partner to undress him, touch him as he sees fit. What a slut. Heh. I like that about him. Ah, those tattoos are beautiful. Apparently Virgil thinks so too, what with the way his tongue and fingers are tracing each and every one. And there goes the human's shirt. Wow, he is ripped. Sexy. He's no Alistair, but that's gorgeous.

"Your little friend loves seeing you like this," I can hear the man whisper into Zev's pointy ear. "And you love being watched, don't you?" In response to this, the elf simply moans, weakly nodding his head. Virgil's hand slides into his partner's trousers, where his arousal is already showing clearly. A little gasp sounds from between Zevran's parted lips. "You're a dirty little whore, aren't you?" Another weak nod. "Say it." Who'd have thought this unassuming-looking young man had such fire and dominance in him? Rawr.

"I am a..." The elf whimpers as the hand down his pants strokes up and down. "Dirty, dirty little whore." His voice is raspy, full of need. Maker, is that sexy or what? "Please stop torturing me like this..." Another hand creeps up his chest, higher, higher, until thumb and forefinger find his nipple. "Ah! _Sì, sono la tua puttanella_!" Mmm... Must be something dirty.

Virgil gasps and chuckles. "I have no idea what that means, but damn, is it hot." Bending down, he lets his tongue run along the shell of Zevran's ear. "You deserve a little treat for that. Get on your knees for me." As soon as his command has been followed, he practically dangles his meat in my friend's face. "You want this, don't you?" he teases. The assassin nods enthusiastically, already reaching out his hands. His amber eyes are almost aglow with desire. "Then open wide."

Zev happily receives the other man's cock in his mouth. He moans with joy every time his head bobs up and down. Wow. Judging from the way Virgil is groaning and threading his fingers through Zevran's hair, he must be good. It's nice to look at either way. And I have the best view possible.

"You're granting me such a luxurious view on purpose, aren't you?" My own voice is hoarse just from watching them. Maybe one day, I might have convinced my blood mage to get down and dirty with Zevran, but alas. Now that day will never come. The thought of him makes me feel so fucking lonely, even though I'm not really. Shit. I hate introspection.

"Yeah, but…" Virgil tilts his head, his expression worried despite the pretty elf so happily sucking his cock. "It's not really working, is it?"

I shrug. "I could be feeling worse." My vision is slightly blurry. Tearing up again. Ugh. "Sorry, just don't mind me. Pretend I'm not here."

"If you're…" A long moan rolls from the human's lips. "If you're sure." See, I'm already forgotten. Eager hands grip platinum locks, hips thrust into an expertly sucking mouth. I've never seen anything this beautiful. Before long, Virgil has pushed Zevran away. "Good boy." He pats him on the head and briefly strokes his wet, glistening organ. "You really know your stuff, don't you?" Biting his lip, he wipes away a stray strand of saliva from his partner's chin. "Yeah, you really do. Bend over."

"Why yes, master," the elf replies playfully. "Anything you say." He obediently turns his back to the other man, and does as he's been told.

The "master" promptly slaps his ass. "See, that's what I like to hear." With great enthusiasm, he begins tugging at the Antivan's pants.

A delighted gasp. "Mmm..." Zev's eyes shift in my direction. They're hazy, lustful. He's also grinning from ear to ear. Someone is enjoying himself. "Come, Warden." He crooks his finger. "Come closer."

"What do you need, handsome?" As soon as I am within his reach, the elf pulls me down. He wipes away my tears, covers my face with kisses, before kissing me more deeply. "Mmm, Maker, those lips," I sigh afterwards. "So soft, and full..."

Zevran chuckles, the crow's-feet (how appropriate) near his eyes deepening. "You like?" Those magical lips move to the side of my neck. I would like to answer his question, but I don't think that's really necessary. The moaning does give it away. Also, we're being watched. I had completely forgotten about him.

"Never mind me." Virgil is watching us with great interest, smiling. "You two would make the cutest couple." Our cuteness does nothing to diminish his hard-on, though. Slowly he strokes it, his gaze sometimes flitting towards my friend's butt. "Okay, I hate to break this up, but if you'll excuse me..." Zev's pants and smallclothes disappear quicker than I can blink, the elf pushed back into the desired position just as fast. "That's a lovely little hole you got there." The young man licks his thumb, then rubs it over the orifice. Zevran reacts with a choked moan and wriggling of his hips. "I wouldn't want to hurt you, though," he drawls. From somewhere he's conjured up a small glass vial. Oil or some other kind of lubricant, no doubt. He meticulously oils up his cock, making it all shiny and slick. The assassin's ass gets the same treatment. "There, are you ready?"

With his neck craned to look at his partner, Zev says pleadingly: " _Scopami, per favore!_ "

"I'll take that as a yes." Virgil beckons me closer. "Come here, watch me stretch this sweet ass out like a rubber fucking band." His voice is rough, his words even more so. Still, I do want to see this from up close. I swiftly position myself beside him for a spectacular view. Groaning all the while, he slips in one finger, moves back and forth a bit, then adds another. Methinks this particular little whore has had quite a lot of experience playing this part. Even if I could understand Antivan, the flurry of phrases that tumble from Zev's lips would have been unintelligible anyway. He's babbling; pleading, obviously. "Well, well, aren't we stretchy?" Virgil murmurs. There is an almost impossibly wide grin on his face. "Your friend neglected to mention this delightful fact," he tells me with clear joy. "No need for hours of prep, heh."

My mouth falls open farther and farther as the man forthwith presses the tip of his sizeable cock against the waiting entrance, and it slips in a few inches without needing too much pressure. Wow. That _is_ stretchy. I wonder how he would feel about me putting my vibrator in there. Fun. And if I could find this pelvic harness thing Branka was talking about in her note, I could do such great things. Hehehehe... Yes. Maker's breath, look at that. I can see his ass contract around Virgil's rod, and the moans coming from the elf are nothing like those of last night. Rawer, hoarser. My word. Astoreth's approval rating of Zevran rises with fifteen points. Don't ask me what that means, but that's how I feel.

"Please, master, don't go so slowly," the Crow mewls desperately, whatever pride he had in the first place completely abandoned. "Ram it in me, I swear I can take it!"

"Oh, I know you can take it." With an almost evil grin on his face, the human continues inching his way inside. "I also know you're impatient, and impatient little elves need to learn patience. Don't you agree, Warden?"

I shake my head to tear myself away from the enchanting sight before me. "Totally. Patience is a virtue, after all." I'm a vat full of cheesy proverbs tonight.

"Warden, how mean of you!" Desperate or not, Zevran still seems to be amused. "Tell this man to be nice to his little whore, won't you?"

"Awww..." I pull my face into a pleading expression for his benefit. "Look at him! How can you resist that?" I know I wouldn't be able to. The squirming, the begging... Mmm.

Virgil gives his devoted slave a friendly pat on the bum. "You're right. He has been a very good boy, and I should reward him for that." Arousal drips from his every word. And then, suddenly, the man simply rams himself all the way in. "So tight," he hisses from between clenched teeth. A tease through and through, he doesn't even move. "Beg me for it, slut."

"Please." Zev cranes his neck, his pretty features contorted with lust and need. "Please fuck me."

A stinging slap has the poor elf whimpering. "Louder, bitch, come on," his tormentor commands. That's a lot of unkind names thrown around. I would jump to my friend's defence, but he doesn't seem to mind. Seems to bloody love it, even. "Not _too_ loud though, we don't need to invite everyone else." I think I should watch this from a different position. Front, this time. Yes.

"Please, master," the Antivan implores in a slightly louder tone of voice. "Please, fuck me, please. Hurt me, bruise me, pull my hair, whatever you want. Just, for the love of my sanity, _move_!"

For a few moments, Virgil stays silent. Then he grins widely. "Ah, that's my good whore." Pumping his hips back and forth, he grabs a handful of white-blond locks. Thus he yanks him up until the elf's bronzed back is flush with his less bronzed, but broader chest. "You don't mind me being this rough with you, do you?" he murmurs so softly I can only barely make out the words. "Tell me if I'm going too far." Tender kisses down the slope of Zev's shoulder follow, his pumping motions never ceasing.

"My master is too kind." A lovely smile curves my friend's lips. For the first time the two share a kiss. What a beautiful sight. Sweet, sexy, needy. This might be even better than me being the orange marmalade in their sandwich, so to speak. After their tender exchange, the elf bends over once more. From this point on, they stop talking. Heat rises in my body from watching them. Pumping hips, barely muffled moans, growling, grunting. Short, shallow, quick thrusts. Long, slow, deep strokes. Yeah, best surprise ever. From time to time, Zevran locks eyes with me and smiles, almost apologetically. This didn't turn out the way he had planned, I guess. I will still never forget it. Who'd have thought that I would become so close to the man who once tried to kill me?

"Thank you, Zev." I crawl closer to them, to briefly press a kiss to his cheek. "I love my surprise."

"I already told you." He moans, eyes pressed shut like a cat getting its belly rubbed. "You are… Mmm… Very welcome." A hard wooden floor can't be all that comfortable, so I move his head from there to my lap. Carefully I brush a few stray strands of hair away from his face. "Thank you." One golden eye opens. "How sweet you are, _fiammina_."

Behind him, Virgil groans. "Maker, I can't hold off for much longer. Would you kindly stop twitching like that?"

"Why don't _you_ stop twitching?" Zevran chuckles. I suspect he's just tightened a few muscles, because his partner now groans in despair. "See, now you're doing it again."

"You tease!" Laughing joyfully, the human smacks the elf's toned bottom. "Fine then, my sweet little whore. I'm going to pump this tight ass full of cum, how about that?" He gives a few exceptionally hard thrusts.

Zev gasps and sinks his teeth into my thigh. Ow, didn't expect that. "No, wait, please." With a wet plop the human's hard-on pops out of his butt as, very suddenly, he turns and kneels before his master. "Come all over my face," he whispers hoarsely. Oh my fucking Maker, I need to see this from up close. Side view!

"Oh yeah, here it comes." Virgil is jerking it at the speed of lightning. His muscles are tightening more and more, his face red all the way down to his neck. Several breathless grunts exit from between his clenched teeth. First only a few drops of thick white liquid leak from him, then it turns into several long squirts. They look lovely in contrast with Zevran's sun-kissed skin. "Don't get any in your eyes, it stings like crazy." The man is panting like a dog.

My pretty elf laughs, smacking his lips. "I am afraid it is already too late for that." And yet he doesn't seem to care. Purring contently, he collects a bit from his face and licks his fingers. "That is delicious."

"Sharing means caring." I lick his cheek. True, it's yummy. "Give me some more."

"Certainly not." Zev quickly stuffs a bit more down his mouth and sticks out his tongue. "All mine, I worked hard for it." We continue play fighting over the delectable liquid until most of it is gone. I'm not about to lick his eyeballs.

While I was busy stealing Zevran's hard-earned reward, the other man has already dressed. That's fast. "I had bundles of fun, my friends, but if I don't get to bed right now, I'll cause some serious accidents tomorrow." Yawn. He briefly bends down and affectionately kisses Zev on the crown of his head, then ruffles my hair. "Thank you both. Goodnight." We both wish him the same.

"I really need to wash out my eyes." Even though the elf is squinting, I can clearly see the whites of his eyes are a bright red. "Will you help me, _fiammina_?"

His shirt is already in my hands. "Of course." For some reason helping him get his clothes back on is fun. Reminds me of my little boy, I think. Heavily he leans on me while I guide him to where we keep the water. There is a stream somewhere nearby, but this is closer. "Let's see if I can help you with this." He really isn't cooperating, closing his eyes whenever I try to drip water into them. "Sweetie, I know that's a reflex, but try to keep them open."

"I am sorry, I cannot help it." This time he tries to keep them open with his fingers, only to close them at the very last moment. "Ugh, _affanculo_."

Wait. What am I doing? "Derp. Here." Hands clutched over his aching eyes, I cast a very minor healing spell. "That should help you."

"Huh." He blinks a few times; all redness has left those brilliant orbs. "Having a magical friend is very beneficial, no?" A pleased grin splits his face.

"Sure is." I bump my shoulder against his. "So, was that as good as it looked?" Ah, another wonderful memory. Maybe I should write my memoirs at some point. There's a lot of good stuff stored in this old noggin of mine.

Zev bites his lip. "Oh, even better. It is a pity however, that your surprise has fallen through." He seizes my hand. Puppy eyes. "My apologies. I hope you have enjoyed yourself anyway."

"Don't be silly, it was wonderful!" I fling my arms around him in a tight hug. "It was the most awesome thing ever, and I will never forget you rustled up another guy for my benefit." A very familiar thing pokes into my belly. "Are you even satisfied?"

"Not as much as I could be, I admit." He flashes a quick smile. "But surely I will be fine."

Probably, but that doesn't matter. I grab him by the collar. "Come on, I'm going to have my wicked way with you in your tent," I tell him in the most suggestive voice I can muster.

He happily lets me drag him along, grinning from ear to ear. "Yes, please."


	169. The Road to Denerim - Masterpieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth meets someone she hasn't thought about for a long time.

### The Road to Denerim - Masterpieces

That was lovely. I left Zevran half passed out in his tent. Me, I'm not very tired. Even though I've been intimate with two men tonight (three if you count the brief time the coachman's tongue spent on my private parts), I don't feel sleepy. This is fucking ridiculous. Can't stop thinking about Jowan, about his expressive manner. All gone now. It's my fault. I should have kept him with me, no matter how much he wanted to be punished. It's not like him losing all his emotions and his connection to the Fade will suddenly expunge everything. Lily and I were still dragged into it, an entire town was thrust into chaos. Sure, he feels no guilt anymore. Doesn't make his actions any less foolish. Neither will it make me miss him any less. I had to go and fall in love with him. That was even dumber than having a templar's child. Or not. Is it? I love my baby, no doubt about it. But still… So many mistakes. Feels like my life is a chain made up out of nothing else.

Perhaps my failure as a friend is a good thing. If I hadn't tried to help Jowan, I would never have followed Duncan willingly. Resentment of the Grey Wardens, and eventually myself, would have come from that. Jowan's actions made it so that I had no choice. Huh. Whenever did I go outside? Actually, whenever does "outside" look like a blurry desert? The Fade. Guess I was tired enough after all. And now I wonder if that attempt at a threesome wasn't a dream too.

"It was not," a deep, feminine voice answers my unspoken question. A voice with some subtle hints of demon in it. "Your companion is very devoted to you."

I rise to meet my unwanted guest. Yes, it's a demon. One of those that like to take on the form of horned, scantily clad, fairly attractive humanoid females. "How refreshing of you to simply approach me here, but I have no intention whatsoever to let you possess me. Run along now. Shoo."

"Have you enjoyed your dreams, mortal?" she asks me, thoroughly ignoring what I just said. "I do consider some of them my masterpieces." Her voluptuous lips curve into an unnerving smile as she lazily taps her clawed fingers on her thigh.

"What are you talking about?" My heart sinks. Something tells me this isn't good.

The demon takes a step closer. "That thief, trapped in his own dream." She smiles wickedly. "It was so _easy_ , guiding you to him. Surely you have felt some pride from freeing his troubled soul." I step back when the demon reaches out a hand towards me. "You, your blood mage. Young and free of cares. His confession that it was he who created the dream truly pleased you, did it not? That was truly a masterful touch of mine."

"Why are you telling me this?" That dream had brought me a small measure of peace. Slowly I open my hands; they balled into fists without my knowing. "If you need a vessel, toying with their beliefs isn't the way to go." It was all a lie. I should have known I was fooling myself. We cannot create dreams for others. At least, I've never heard of it. Stupid. Naive. I'm beginning to think that Sten's judgment of me really isn't that far from the truth.

"How foolish of me. I shall remember that for my future interactions with your kind." She sticks out her lower lip in what I assume must look like a pout. "You have no recollection of me at all, do you, mortal?"

I cock my head, give the creature an incredulous stare. "What? Why would I..." A dazed templar in a ruined tower. _Happiness is bewitching_. "Oh. How's your family?"

"The children are grown, my templar an old man on his deathbed." Another eerie smile. "Surrounded by loved ones he would not have had, were it not for me." The demon sways her round hips, one hand running up her breast. That habit is really distracting. "I simply thought such sweet dreams would please you. Naturally the illusion would need to be maintained. My mistake."

"And you want to please me why, exactly?" Can't help but think of her naked. Or rather, more naked than she already is.

She chuckles seductively. "That is most unexpected, but if you wish..." Hooking her thumbs over the cloth covering her hips, she slides it down a few inches. Her pale violet skin looks very soft. "You have done me and my mate a great service, mage. We could have engaged in battle, I would have crushed you and your companions, it would have been so very messy." The demon clicks her tongue. "Instead, you allowed us our freedom. I can roam the world, my templar has the family he so longed for. How could I not be grateful?"

"Drop the act. What do you want?" A girl can't even dream in peace.

"I want what all of my kin wants." She cups one hand to my chin; the garment hiding her lower body from view slides down, until it is a pile of fabric around her ankles. "Access to the mortal world." Her tail whips around erratically.

Don't stare. Don't stare! The jewellery around her hips is similar to that around her neck, complete with censoring golden plates in a strategic place. I stared. "I'm not about to help you with that. Leave me alone."

"Are you sure... Tori?" The venomous purple eyes morph into a more familiar pale blue pair, violet skin shifting to almost white. "I could come back to you." Bitch has his voice down to a T. "I will stay with you forever. All you have to do is one little thing. Or maybe..." The well-crafted image of Jowan smiles, then changes again. "Maybe you would rather have me?" Soft-spoken as always. A perfect copy. "We could be so happy together, Astoreth, you, me and our son. What do you say?" Counterfeit Cullen caresses my cheek, moves his lips closer to mine. "It won't take any effort at all."

" _That's not fair!_ " I'm shrieking like a bloody harpy. "You demon bitch, don't you dare use my own memories against me!"

She abruptly transforms back to her original form. "Very well, no need for such harsh words, mortal." Fire flashes in her eyes. "I am bound to my oath against harming you and yours, so I will not press the matter." Chuckling under her breath, she runs her talons along my jaw line. "Count on it, however, that when desire flares up in your heart, I will be there to fulfil it." The demon has the audacity to blow me a kiss before disappearing.

"Then kindly fulfil my desire to never see you again." I must always have the last word, even if it's directed at thin air. That... that... _Aaargh_. Now I feel even worse. Nowhere is safe, not even my own bloody dreams.


	170. The Road to Denerim - Lady Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ladies of the Grey Warden party share a carriage.

### The Road to Denerim - Lady Talk

After the rest of the night spent awake crying, and setting out early, I feel terrible. Mentally, physically. This must be how cows feel, when they're not milked on time. My baby. His absence makes me feel… hollow. Empty. Drained. And of course, there is another's absence. Maker's breath, Jowse, I know you don't want me to be sad for you, but I can't help it. You were my best friend. I still love you, damn it. Stupid dreams, stupid demons. I have been fooling myself, and I know it. Well, I know now. Shit. How could I be so stupid? Luckily Alistair hasn't had an opportunity to see me from up close, or he would have asked questions. I wouldn't have been able to hold back the tears. Show no weakness. For some reason, I have become the leader of this crazy group. For their sake I will stay strong. Heh. Stubbs' paws twitch when I stroke his belly. He looks so cute sleeping.

"Astoreth." A slim hand pats my knee. "Something is troubling you. What is it?" Morrigan's yellow eyes scan my face in worry. It's a miracle she's not flying around somewhere.

"Hm. What gave it away?" The carriage hits a pothole, giving us all a shaking.

The witch chuckles. "There are black circles around your eyes and your nose is not buried in your precious book. Am I the only one who sees this?"

"No." Wynne shakes her head. "If she chooses not to speak of it, however…"

Leliana too looks at me worriedly. "I at least will not press you, my friend, but in case you wish to vent, we are here for you."

Vent? Yes, please. I'm glad this somehow turned into an all-girls-carriage. "I miss Jowan. I thought I was all right with giving him to the Circle, but I'm not. Not really."

"It is understandable you miss him, dear, but didn't you already know beforehand what you were getting into?" Wynne gently reprimands me.

"Of course. Just, somewhere in the back of my mind, I suppose I just kept hoping I could convince him to stay with me…" I sigh.

The senior enchantress raises an eyebrow. "If so, you would just have been harbouring another fugitive-…"

"Enough, old woman!" Morrigan almost has lightning coming out of her eyes. "Is that your way of consoling her? Let me do this." With a half-pitying, half-exasperated sigh, she directs her gaze at me. Thankfully it is a lot gentler. "Warden, when will you learn? Love is fleeting and meaningless."

"Oh yes, Morrigan, dismissing her feelings is a _great_ way of comforting her," Wynne scoffs.

Leliana looks at the angry combatants in turn and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Ladies, please, you are getting completely off topic." Smiling sweetly, she lays a hand upon my knee. "Dearest one, I know how much it hurts to have someone you love torn away from you, believe me, I do. The pain will fade eventually." A reassuring pat. "And then you will find another to love. Surely a girl like you cannot stay alone for too long." The bard winks.

"That's sweet of you, but I'm done with all that." I shake my head. "Maybe that's just the grief talking, but seriously, I've had it with men just disappearing from my life. My heart has been broken twice, and I think that is more than enough."

"Love has a way of happening, whether you like it or not." Leliana's full lips stretch into an awkward smile. "I fear you may have no choice."

Giving the redhead a sidelong glance, Morrigan adds: "Be that as it may, you would do well to armour your heart. Allow not a soul to rip it from your chest."

"You are all fools," Shale tosses in her two coppers. "Surely none of this has any importance?"

"I appreciate all of your sentiments, thank you." Except for Shale's. And now more on to pressing matters. "By the way, a demon tried to possess me last night. Before you start losing it…" I raise my hands. "It failed. I'm still me."

"What did it tempt you with?" Curiosity is evident on the witch's beautiful face. "The usual? Power, wealth?"

I wish. "No. A happy life, with Jowan, or Cullen." Maybe both of I'd asked politely.

"Oh, dear." Leliana shakes her head, sending me a sympathetic look. "No wonder you look so sad."

Shale shrugs indifferently. "It should have simply crushed the demon's head and been done with it." Then she laughs in ridicule. "But I forget, it is but a frail human and thus unable to do so very easily, if at all."

"Yes, yes, Shale, you are immortal and perfect and we squishy creatures could never hope to even come close to your superiority." Wynne rolls her eyes. "I am glad to see you are wise enough to know the dangers of demonic possession, and the fragile illusions that they create," the elderly mage tells me approvingly. "You will find happiness elsewhere, I'm sure. There is your lovely son, for instance. "

Morrigan nods, her expression wise. "Indeed. And perhaps being a Grey Warden brings you joy to a certain extent as well." No quarrelling with Wynne? No scoffing? Dear me.

"Oh, it does." I make a wide gesture. "I get to go places, test my magic and sword skills, I collected a great bunch of friends along the way..." This final remark earns me an awkward cough from Morrigan, an endeared smile from Wynne, and happy squealing from Leliana. Shale maintains an appropriately stony silence. "You're the best friends I could ever wish for, and I suggest that when we get to Denerim, the first thing we do is an outing for girls only. No boys allowed."

"That is a brilliant idea!" The bard looks excited already. "I found this shop that has the cutest shoes."

"Interesting." The golem makes a pensive humming noise. "Some cushioning on my feet would be nice, but I doubt such footwear could be made..."

Leliana puckers her lips as she always does while she is in thought; it almost makes her look as if she is asking for a kiss. Cute. "Well, I could see some nice, thick sandals being made. With very tick leather straps." She excitedly claps her hands. "Oh yes, perhaps we could find some cobbler who could give it a try! What colour would you want?"

Shale waves her hand dismissively. "Surely the colour is unimportant."

Just as Leliana opens her mouth to no doubt defend the symbolism behind the colour of one's shoes, the witch curves an elegant eyebrow. "Shoes? Really, Leliana, you have even infected our sturdy companion here with your love of frilly nonsense." She scoffs. " _I_ need more ingredients for my potions."

"My staff could use replacing," Wynne adds. It's true, the thing is getting all splintery.

So while Leliana informs everyone about some shop called the 'Wonders of Thedas', I whip out my book. Talking really helps. I feel so much better. Hmm, yes. I had finally arrived at a part where Stiffington has sex with a woman. Two women, actually. Of course he can't be bothered to engage in the more common forms of sex. That would be all too plebeian for him, I fear.

_Lady Clarice sent good vibrations into my system as I rammed my rampant rod down her throat time and time again , the Lady Isabelle pounding away at her front-bottom with a sizeable leather cock. A great invention, I must say. It would have been better if the cock could somehow be strapped to the woman's loins, but alas. We lack the technology. Ah, Isabelle had the foulest mouth on her. Orlesian ladies might seem refined; in the bedroom, they are anything but._

_"Yes, my little whore," she cooed in that delightful accent. "Do you want me to fuck this lovely_ petite _pussy, hmm?" Clarice was so far gone she could only moan. Not that she could speak with me down her gullet, of course. "Say it, or no more for you."_

_That made the other noblewoman snap to. She muttered something that sounded a lot like: "Please, yes!" More of those precious vibrations to make my cock even happier than it already was._

_"Please yes, what?" Ever the tease, Isabelle slowed her movements. "What is it you wish me to do,_ chérie _?" The sopping noises her extra appendage made with every thrust did in no way become less loud or delicious. Every single one sent a pang of lust into my stomach. Pity I could not see those gloriously pink lips extend, or lick away the liquid that was sure to be dripping from them. Her taste still lingered in my mouth._

_Clarice turned redder than she already was as I briefly allowed her a moment of respite to speak. "Please... f..." She was so very shy, even though a man and a woman were having their wicked way with her. "Please f... fuck me, Belle," she whimpered eventually. Ah, such charming creatures, these sweet sisters._

_"I know how much effort that cost you." Isabelle clicked her tongue in a somehow both condescending and pitying manner. "For that,_ ma petite _, I shall reward you." And so she began ramming the leather pseudo-cock into her little companion's cunt as if she was trying to batter down an enemy's gate. "Does this please you, dear Clarice?" she rasped roughly. "Perhaps I should add my tongue to the mixture, no?" And she did so, judging from the squealing. Sadly I was in no position to-_

"My word, Astoreth, what are you reading?" a slightly shocked voice asks. Only now do I see Wynne looking over my shoulder.

Blood rushes to my face. Busted. "I-I uh... I found this in the library of Redcliffe Castle."

"Young lady..." Wynne's face looks stern, her voice seems even more so. "I cannot believe you are keeping this all to yourself!"

"Huh, what?" Maybe I had an ear malfunction. "Did you just ask me to share this?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Certainly! I have read every one of my books at least three times, and I love sordid romances." Her blue eyes shoot my book a covetous glance.

"Well, this isn't so much a romance as it is just plain sordid."

"Yes, yes." She waves her hand dismissively. "Romance, pornography, anything goes. You didn't think we old ladies only read sappy tales of once upon a time and happily ever after, did you?" With a chuckle she holds out her hand. "May I?"

Neatly I bookmark my page. Almost done. "Of course."

Under a whole lot of "my, my, my" and "my word" and "oh, dear", Wynne inspects the first few pages. Her cheeks are becoming increasingly more pink. "This sounds delightful. Do you mind if I borrow it?"

"Be my guest." I snatch back the book from her. "But not until I'm done with it. I'll have it for you tonight at the earliest, tomorrow morning I will be done for sure."

"Thank you, child, I appreciate it." Looking out of the window, she mutters: "Perhaps this 'Wonders of Thedas' will have a few interesting books."

Perceptive as always, Leliana reacts immediately. "Oh, they do! I even noticed a copy of the _Rose of Orlais_. The Chantry banned that, you know..." Yes, yes. I'm sure the Chantry would ban this one too, if they haven't already.

_Sadly I was in no position to see everything, and I was all too eager to return to making love to the young lady's mouth and throat ._

_The ladies did not mind me in the very least, completely absorbed in their dirty little game. I was more of a spectator than anything else. Still, I could not complain at all about my darling cousins staying over from Val Royaux. It was going exactly as I had planned. Clarice's throat tightened around my rock-hard rod, and soon I would blow my load wherever she wanted to have it. I had learned the hard way that Orlesian "ladies" do not appreciate receiving a man's essence anywhere inside of them._

Oh yeah, _that_. I don't get it. How can he find being caned on the ass so pleasurable? A few smacks with the flat of the hand, sure, lovely, but with a switch, until it's drawn blood? I'll pass, thanks.

_"You are going to, how do you say, come, are you not?" moaned Clarice, having pulled away from me as soon as she felt my erratic throbbing. "Please, Simon, I want you to bathe me in it!"_

_Now how was I to say no to that? I waited just long enough for her to take her position. Then I let go. Watching my cream spill all over her pretty little face was a sight for sore eyes. Her sister immediately jumped in to claim some of it. "_ Mon Créateur _, Simon, you taste heavenly," Isabelle purred. "Perhaps you would do us the pleasure of milking you for all you have." Of course, my dear cousin is a woman who is not used to hearing no for an answer. Nor would I give her such an answer, mind you._

_She pushed me on my back, and together with sweet Clarice, began fellating me. Oh, the sight of those two delicate noblewomen, running their little tongues all over the length of my still hard cock, kissing each other from time to time..._

Ah, that brings me back. All the way to yesterday, haha. Zevran's pretty little face, all covered in cum. Delightful. Suddenly the carriage halts. Looks like it's time for our break. We only ride for an hour or two, then pause for a little while. You know, so people can pee, or stretch their legs. Comfortable though these carriages may be, it gets annoying after a while. I could go for a little walk.


	171. The Road to Denerim - New-found Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair isn't the shy boy he used to be.

### The Road to Denerim - New-found Confidence

Warden senses tingling! "Oh, hey, Al-..." Whoa.

"Hi kitty," he whispers heatedly into my ear, pinning me against a tree. "Couldn't stop thinking about last night." His soft lips press fevered kisses down the side of my neck. "The way you moaned when I licked you... Mmm..." While his tongue eagerly explores my mouth, his hand slides between my thighs. Fingers slip beyond my panties. He looks at me, hazel eyes half-lidded. "This time, I'm going to watch that sweet face of yours." I gasp and moan when he finds my clit. "Oh, that's a very nice reaction already."

Slowly he strokes, slowly the pressure in my centre rises. Alistair doesn't stop fingering me for one second, not even when he bends down to kiss me. He is so damned good. One last touch of his fingers, and I'm there. Lightning flashes behind my eyelids, the pleasure is almost numbing. "Heh, you mages and your short skirts," he chuckles as he removes his hand from between my legs. "That was lovely, Aster." He licks his fingers and grins, then turns his back to walk away. "See you tonight."

What the...? My entire body feels like it's on fire, I'm sweating and panting. Did he... He just made me come and then left. What... I... I'm confused. I... should get back to the others. Right foot, left foot... What did just happen? I… Buh. Just a quick check. No, my brain isn't leaking from my ears. Good.

"Are you running a fever, dear?" Wynne, who is leisurely sitting on a comfortably shaped rock, lays a hand on my forehead. "You feel awfully hot." So would you, if a sexy guy just randomly started fingering you.

"I feel a little strange, but I'm sure it's nothing fatal." Come to think of it… What if she knew about Alistair and I? No doubt she would verbally tear off my head. Best to keep my mouth shut. "Don't worry yourself on my account."

The old lady shrugs. "Very well; do take good care of yourself, child."

"Of course, don't I always?" Someone is watching me, I feel; it's _him_. Briefly his eyes look me up and down, lips twitching in a mixture of smirk and smile. Then he looks away. What's got into him? It's my fault, isn't it? I ruined that poor, sweet thing.

"Good morning, dear Warden." The sudden purr into my ear nearly makes me leap into a tree. Zev gives Wynne an amicable nod. "Wynne." Eyebrows knitted together, he looks from her to me. "Why, your lovely new garb is nearly reduced to tatters, while your fellow mage's equally lovely robes are all but pristine. What gives?"

I sigh. "That's because she's epic Wynne."

"Hardly," she chuckles. "I have the sense to stay well back, unlike our impetuous Warden." It is obvious that she no longer finds this a problem, because the statement is uttered without resentment of any kind, or glaring. "So, Zevran, you seem to be especially bright and cheery today."

"Indeed!" He flashes his teeth in a happy smile. "I slept like a baby." I can't help but blush at the part I played in this. "Come, Astoreth," he says, curving one arm around my waist. "I need to have a word with you in private. Surely you do not mind, my darling Wynne?"

She harrumphs. "I am not your darling." With an askance look in my direction, she adds: "And no, of course I do not mind." She actually looks relieved. That's probably because he hasn't breathed a word of his favourite Wynne-related subject: her bosom. Bwaha.

"Tonight I will be unavailable," he whispers into my ear as he guides me away. "I will be spending the night with our new friend. This is… not a problem, is it?" His honey-coloured eyes shoot me a nervous look.

"Oh, it will be if you don't tell me all about it afterwards, my friend." I laugh and see the look in his eyes soften. "Look, you don't claim me, and I don't claim you. It works, doesn't it?"

He smiles, his demeanour grateful. "So it does. Thank you, _fiammina_." Fondly he kisses my cheek. "I hope that you will not be lonely yourself. If so, we would not mind you joining us."

"No, I have company." Ah, the wonderful and virginal Alistair. I'll whittle away at his purity until I've popped his cherry, so to speak. Mmm… Cherries... Oh, damn it.

"Judging from that smile, I daresay you are looking forward to your company," Zev chuckles. "So who is the lucky man? Or woman?"

My face flushes. I don't want to tell him just yet, but if he uses his brain, it's pretty easy to figure out anyway. "What makes you think I might also like women?"

"Oh, I see the way you look at Morrigan and Leliana sometimes." His eyebrows wiggle. "And they are lovely ladies indeed. You, however…" Not caring at all who might be looking, he wraps his arms around my waist and buries his face in the crook of my neck. "You are lovelier than the two of them together."

"Aw, you're just saying that…" Somehow I can't muster the strength to push him away. Nor do I really want to. All this affection? I like it. I've rather missed being treated this way.

"No, I am not." Deeply he breathes in my scent. It tickles. "There is something about you, though I cannot say what exactly that might be. I…" With a wry grin he lets go of me. "Forgive me, I got carried away."

Clearing my throat, I straighten my robes. Not that it's necessary in any way. "N-no, it's all right, don't worry about it." Am I red in the face, or what? Some people are looking at me funny. Bet I have some explaining to do later. Except to Al, because he is blissfully unaware and playing fetch with Stubbs. That saves me from another awkward conversation. I hope.

"Are you still sad, my sweet?" Nimble fingers caress my face. "You seem less so."

"I feel better, I guess. A little." The best course of action is not to think about it. At all. I will have to continue repressing everything until I stop caring. "Just have fun tonight, Zev."

With a smile, he gives my cheek a light pinch. "You too, Warden."

And so I'm free to saunter back to Wynne. "My, my, aren't you friendly with the man who was sent to kill you?" Though light-hearted, there is a tone of warning to her voice. "He is still dangerous. I would watch out if I were you."

"Oh, come on, it's not like that." First she warns me against corrupting innocent little Alistair, now she has problems with Zevran? Methinks she needs a good shag herself. "Zev and me, we're just friends." Good friends. With benefits. Heheheh.

Wynne raises her arms in a good, long stretch. "Whatever you say, dear," she drawls, obviously unbelieving. "You are a big girl, Astoreth, I'm sure you can take care of yourself. So I will only leave you a warning: always keep a degree of vigilance around the lad."

"Yes, _mom_ , thank you." The old lady laughs at my eye-rolling. Maybe I'll ride with the boys this time; they will leave me alone, I'm sure.

~*|'-'|*~

Humph. They didn't exactly leave me be. Alistair kept stealing glances at my chest, Zevran openly stared at my legs. Stubbs stared at the both of them. Nobody was very subtle about it. Not subtle enough to make sure Sten wouldn't notice anyway. He looked at them, then at Stubbs, then at me, and shook his head. I don't know what he was thinking. Something along the lines of "the people I travel with are idiots", no doubt.

My mood was too crappy to care much. Couldn't even focus on my book. Without Collin, I hardly feel like myself. He is in good hands, surely, but I just want him with me. My baby. Does he miss his mother? Maybe a little, I don't know. Maybe he will have forgotten all about me, by the time I get to see him again. Never mind. Being selfish like this… How I feel is unimportant. All that matters is his safety and wellbeing. Even if he won't know who I am.

Why in the Black City is that fucking demon after me? There are more fish in the sea, more mages in the Fade. Is it because she's had dealings with me before? Perhaps letting her go wasn't that great an idea after all. Here I thought this would have no consequences whatsoever. Live and learn, Aster. My eyes have been opened. No matter how strong the connection between us, I should have known that dream was bullshit. Wishful thinking, or in this case, demonic intervention. Stop thinking about it. It's no use.

I've got other stuff to worry about anyway. Camp is set up, dinner is in my belly. Now I'm just waiting until everyone is in their tent, so I can sneak into Al's. Should I go through with this? Having two lovers might be a tad too sordid, even for me. Or is it? When push comes to shove, I probably won't care. He's gorgeous, and he wants me to be his first. It's an honour, really. A great honour. Zevran's a welcome bonus. Boy, is he good in the sack. Doesn't hurt that he's pretty either. Should I let the elf go? Or Alistair? Ha. Certainly not. They are both such sweet treats; I would hate to pass up on them.

It is still too crowded out there. I have time to finish my book. Wynne will want it as soon as possible. Who'd have thought that nice old lady would enjoy depraved porn? I shudder to think what she was up to in her youth, sex-wise. Or now, even. Oh dear Maker, pass the brain bleach, please.


	172. The Road to Denerim - New Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth sneaks to Alistair's tent in the dead of night. What oh what will happen?

### The Road to Denerim - New Lover

That… was not a happy ending. Still, with all the intercourse Stiffington engaged in and with all those different people, no wonder he'd contract some kind of unpleasant disease. Bleh. I would probably jump off a cliff the moment my bits began turning green and falling off. Ew, just ewww. Wynne can find this ending out for herself. No 'happily ever after' here, no ser. I might take it to her right now.

Well, well. Everyone is gone, no lights coming from the other tents. Except for one. The slight clang of metal tells me that a few of the arl's soldiers are patrolling the camp, but other than that, the place is deserted. Wonderful. Wynne can have her new reading material tomorrow. As quietly as I possibly can, which is easy because I'm not wearing boots or armour, I sneak over to my new lover's tent.

"So, am I any good with my hands?" Not even a word of greeting. He smirks at me, leisurely draped over his bedroll. This time, he still has on his pants. No shirt, just the pants. I like.

"What would you have said if I'd been Wynne, or anyone else?"

With a wide grin on his handsome face, Al rolls onto his stomach and beckons me closer. "You're the only one who would just dash in here without announcement of any kind." We kiss, holding one another close. "Isn't that right, little Aster? You're such a naughty girl," he chuckles. His hand lightly smacks down on my bottom. "Oh, man, can I be honest with you?" While affectionately staring into my eyes, he begins opening the buttons on my nightie.

"Always, you know that." I bare my shoulders, the nightgown still clinging to my wrists. There is a certain appeal to having your clothes in disarray and showing skin without being completely naked.

"Wow, you look crazy sexy like this." His voice is thick with desire. The boy nuzzles my neck, his hands hot on my hips as he gently coaxes me onto my back. "Anyway, what I wanted to say... I think I've wanted you since we first met." He breaks into a laugh. "Well, not exactly since then. First I thought, 'aw, look at her, she's such a cute little thing'. Then you turned around, I saw your butt, and..." Looking away, he giggles and blushes. "I nearly drilled a hole into my codpiece, so to speak."

Gasp, that is so sweet! "Aww, bless your heart, sweetie." I hug him tightly, his face smooshed against my chest. "That is possibly the most adorable thing a guy has ever told me."

"Well, I'm glad you don't think I'm some filthy pervert." The touch of his lips on the slope of my breast makes me shiver. "I was so jealous, of how you and Daveth seemed to hit it off, and later you said you were already taken, so I'd pretty much given up." Al moves a bit lower, resting his cheek against my belly. "When you broke up with Col-... I mean, Cullen, I was plucking up my courage to try and seduce you in my typical suave way. I swear, I was _this_ close," he indicates a very small space between thumb and forefinger, "and then fucking Jowan swooped in." Awkwardly he clears his throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."

"It's okay, I understand how that can be frustrating." This is a true eye-opener. I had no idea he liked me this much, and from then on already. Wow. I'm flattered beyond belief. Flattered and really, really turned on. "But now that you have me, what do you intend to do with me?"

Supporting his weight on his hands, the handsome Warden grins down on me. "Oh, I think you know." And so he bends down to turn thought into reality. His kisses are laced with more than a hint of urgency. Dripping with need. Have I mentioned yet that this is extremely flattering? "I love the way you kiss me," Al murmurs into my lips.

"Mmm, I love the way you kiss too..." I trace the strong muscles in his back as we continue devouring each other, and slip my hands down the back of his trousers. Oh, my. That is one fine ass. Our local connoisseur of butts would no doubt be very happy to fondle this one. Too bad, Zev, he's mine for now. "Damn, you're sexy."

Laughingly, he replies: "Thanks, you know how to make a man feel at ease." His mouth moves lower, placing a row of hot kisses down the column of my throat. His hands are already busying themselves elsewhere. "How do I get this thing off?" He is eagerly pulling at my brassiere with one hand, the other squeezing my breast.

"Heh, you need to unlace the front. Yep, there you go." The constricting undergarment falls away from me.

Alistair stares at my chest like he's never seen it before, then sits up, piously folds his hands and gazes skyward. "Hooray for boobies! Maker, bless this bounty I am about to receive..."

This adorable comical interlude has me laughing loudly. "Oh, come here, you big joker!" He all but falls into my open arms and kisses me once more, still a wide grin on his lips. We continue groping at one another, grabbing, squeezing, stroking whatever our hands come across. Somehow, we are now both completely nude. How did that happen? Sweet Maker, that body of his...

Suddenly, Al twines his fingers through mine and pins my hands on either side of my head. "Please, Aster," he whispers hoarsely. "Let me make love to you now. Please."

His erection, harder than I've ever felt one, is involuntarily making jerking motions. It taps against my stomach, leaving wet spots on my skin. "But, I thought we'd agreed to wait…" Not like I really want to, or anything. I just think being in an actual room is more comfortable.

"I don't want to wait." The poor thing has a look of infinite despair on his face. "I'm not even sure I can. Please?" Repeating that word over and over again, his lips softly dance on my neck. "I'll back off if you really want me to, but I know you want me just as much as I want you. Please?"


	173. The Road to Denerim - The Inevitable Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think would happen?

### The Road to Denerim - The Inevitable Conclusion

"Ah..." Whatever resistance I had in the first place, is crumbling. "You're right. Just let go of my hands so I can fondle you to my heart's content, okay?"

His joyful smile shines brighter than the sun. "Thank you, Aster. This means a lot to me." A slow kiss, and I already feel the tip of him at my entrance. The first inch or so slips in; we groan in unison. "So warm, and wet, it's… This is unreal." I can feel that he's struggling against the urge to immediately slide in all the way. "Wow, you feel amazing," he moans, his words choked. As I watch his eyes roll back in his head, then close, I feel him twitching. His cheeks are a deep shade of pink. Virgins are so cute and _sexy_.

At a snail's pace Alistair pushes himself into me, filling me inch by delicious inch. This can't be left unsaid. I purr into his ear: "You're a big boy, aren't you?"

My answer is a pained groan and a vehement twitch. "Please don't say that. I can't handle any dirty talk just yet." The muscles in his jaws are pulled tight. "I'm already trying my best not to finish right away," he says from between clenched teeth. A drop of sweat rolls down the side of his head. "Oh, Maker's breath, this is too _good_...!"

Tell me about it. He is making only the slightest of movements; still every single one of them brings me great pleasure. This tent is growing increasingly hotter, both of us already slick with sweat. And then there's the throbbing I feel deep inside of me. Wrapping my arms around him, I whisper: "It's all right, sweetheart." Softly I press a kiss to his moist brow. "If you have to come, just let go. We have all night."

" _No_." It's only a single whispered word, but it's filled with defiance. "I'm stronger than that. I just don't want it to end so quickly." He stares down on me with those adorable hazel eyes. "I want to stay like this with you forever," he murmurs affectionately.

"Aw, that is so-…" Teeth suddenly closing around my earlobe have me arching my back. "Sweet."

"You're squeezing me too tightly." His breathless words are muffled against the pillow. "I can't last very long if you keep doing that." With a few subdued moans, he holds me closer.

Slowly I release the muscles I didn't even realize I was tightening. I want him to go crazy on me, so badly. Time isn't standing still. "Just come here." I grab him by the back of the neck, and cut the beginning of a curious question off with a kiss. Humming in joy, my dear friend eagerly caresses my tongue with his own. His hands are roaming my skin with evident relish, his hips thrusting less carefully than before. Of course, I wouldn't dream of simply lying still. My hips meet his with every thrust; I love that friction, the way he sends shivers down my spine whenever his cock hits a very sensitive spot deep inside. I just... melt away. Yeah. Staying like this forever would be wonderful.

However, even the most wonderful things must come to an end eventually. Al has such amazing control over himself. He's been twitching and throbbing since the very beginning. Yet, to me it feels like we've lain here like a kissing, fondling, moaning, lovemaking heap for a long time, when he hastily detaches his mouth from mine and announces his climax. A beautiful sight, as I thought it would be. It's in the way he tightly squeezes his eyes shut, in the way his features twist in pleasure, in the way his muscles tighten and relax. Finally he opens his eyes and releases a content sigh. "You are a goddess."

I can't help but blush a little under his adoring gaze. "Oh, look who's talking." Briefly I mess up his hair. "You sex god, you."

Al chuckles awkwardly, then shoots a nervous glance at the roof. "Where is the lightning? The sisters always said it would strike anyone who had the nerve to engage in sexy times."

"Lightning? Ha!" I nestle into his arms. "The Maker himself should throw you a parade for that performance! Tell you what: I'll get a couple of skillets and bang them together, stomp all over camp and loudly exclaim all your meritorious deeds in the sack." The only thing missing from that is a few minstrels and maybe some jugglers. Haha, Leliana could put that lovely voice to good use again.

"You wouldn't!" He laughs heartily, stroking my arm lying across his chest.

"Oh yes, I would." Even if it means facing Wynne's wrath. After all, what is she going to do? Nag me to death? "Just watch me."

Alistair stops me as I make to jump up. "You're crazy." Tightly wrapping his arms around me, he kisses my cheek. "That's what I like best about you. I don't want everyone to talk though, and I can't stand all that giggling nonsense." Smug chuckle. "And to think Wynne tried to warn me against you."

"And you decided to do me anyway?" I shake my head as if thoroughly disappointed. "What did she tell you?" I shudder to think of it. When it comes to this guy's well-being, the woman is an unrelenting force that complains about dirty socks, mends torn shirts and apparently lectures against getting involved with naughty girls like yours truly.

"I wasn't really listening." He shrugs indifferently. "She began with: "Alistair dear, I know you find Astoreth very attractive, but you must make sure you…" And then I got too busy with thinking about the way your bum jiggles when you walk." His eyes take on this vacant look all of a sudden, and he grins an extremely silly grin. I think he's about to start drooling. Well, if he likes the jiggle of my butt that much, there can't be anything wrong with it. Wish someone had been kind enough to inform me of this fact earlier though. "Man, I can't believe it!" The Warden sighs blissfully. "I'm no longer a virgin..." He yawns. "And now I'm tired."

Ah yes, that epic first time and the sort of daze that accompanies it. Good times. Oh boy, yawning is contagious. "Mmm, I'm a bit tired too. So how was it?" If you ask me: it was amazing. So amazing. I'm almost numb with satisfaction, so sleepy. Looks like both his day and mine have been made.

"I daresay it was magical," he drawls lazily, running his hand down my back. "But seriously..." Yawn, a bit more insistently this time. "It was more than I could ever have hoped for."

"M'okay… That's good." Sleepy. Need a nap.

"Is my little kitty sleepy?" he coos, tickling me under the chin. "Tonight was… I can't even describe it. Thank you, Aster. I never thought anyone could make me feel like this."

I yawn and try to focus. His face, although blurry, has this emotional look to it. "Feel like what?"

"So…" He smiles, one hand cupped to my cheek. "So happy. For the first time, I'm truly happy." With true affection in his eyes, he bends down for a kiss. His lips stay pressed to mine for a long time.

"I'm glad. You deserve to be happy, angel." I'm practically purring with contentment, snuggling up to his warm body. "Now please excuse me while I pass out."

He laughs, and holds me tighter. "Of course. One last thing though…"

"Mmm… What's that?"

"I love you," he whispers softly. "I couldn't wish for a better friend."

"Uhuh… Love you too, Alistair... Best friends forever..." Sweet dreams, here I come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh.


	174. The Road to Denerim - Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not the best thing to wake up to.

### The Road to Denerim - Rude Awakening

Darkspawn. Lots of them. And the archdemon. It's looking right at me; its roar seems to pierce through my eardrums. Alistair and I bolt upright simultaneously. "Did you see that too?" he pants, clutching at his heart. "The archdemon! It's like it saw us. _Saw_ us!" Al wipes some sweat from his forehead. "What do you think it means?"

"I…" Suddenly the hairs on my arms stand up, my skin puckering into goose bumps. That whispered song at the edge of consciousness, maddening and beautiful at the same time. It's become louder, and is becoming increasingly louder still. "I don't know what that means, but I know that they are here."

From the way all colour has drained from his face, I can tell my fellow Warden feels the same. Immediately in a panic, we begin searching for our clothes. Alistair is a lot quicker than I am. He grabs his sword and shield, saying: "Get your weapons and put something on, I'll warn the others."

~*|'-'|*~

They pop up from under the ground, like I've seen them do for the first time in the Korcari Wilds. Every variety of darkspawn. Thankfully no ogres and broodmothers. I was too late to prevent one of the arl's soldiers from being cut down. The poor woman didn't make it. There is blood everywhere. Some of it ours, some of it theirs. We will make sure that by the end, they have none left.

Fire, ice, lightning; I use up my mana, until there is too little left to cast any proper spells. Then it's on to the sword. These darkspawn fall so easily. My blade slices through them like warm butter. But for every one that goes down, two more appear. Will there be no bloody end to them at all?

Then an unexpected ally appears on the battlefield. He jumps in like a hero from an old ballad, a welcome sight in silverite and steel. "Let's see what your innards look like!" he bellows, swinging his axe and taking off a genlock's hideous head.

"Oghren!" I slice open another darkspawn belly, spilling guts all over the ground. Red. Their innards are red. "Am I happy to see you!" The clang of weapons fills the air. Yelling, growling, screaming.

"I can't leave you alone, can I, Warden?" he replies, grinning from ear to ear. His face is splattered with blood and gore. "Look at this mess you're in. Where would you be without good old Oghren?"

Morrigan pushes me away, sets a hurlock on fire that was apparently just about to stab me; it begins flailing and shrieking, randomly running around. The witch shoots Oghren a venomous glance. "Yes, yes, dwarf, we are all so lost without you." With a well-placed arch of lightning, she finishes off her unfortunate victim. _"Now cease your blabbering and kill them all!"_

~*|'-'|*~

Three are dead, many are wounded. I'm not entirely unhurt myself. The few scrapes and cuts they've inflicted on me, however, don't require a whole lot of care. They're not even bleeding anymore. I just slapped on a bit of salve. Tomorrow, they should be mostly healed. Wynne and Morrigan are running around to help whoever needs their aid. "No, you fool," I can hear the witch say. "You do not, under any circumstance, bandage a wound without cleaning it first!"

"I was only trying to help," Zev complains. "I am no healer…"

A quick glance in the direction of the conversation tells me that the patient is none other than the assassin's latest conquest, calmly sitting by the fire. One of his trouser legs is covered in blood. "Don't worry about it, baby, I know you were just being nice," Virgil rumbles. He looks adoringly at the elf, curving an arm around his waist. Morrigan makes a disgusted gagging noise. Uh oh.

"Hey, guys." I casually sidle up to them. "Need any help?"

"Yes, please!" Morrigan throws me a cloth and a vial of disinfectant. "I cannot stand these open displays of affection." She quickly runs off.

Zevran rolls his eyes. "Good riddance. That woman is as mean as she is beautiful." He seems slightly uneasy under all this loving attention.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." The coachman is practically drooling, eyes fixed on his lover. He winces when I begin cleaning his injury. "Ow."

"Sorry, I'll do this as quickly as I can." There are several puncture wounds on the outside of his upper thigh. Fucking darkspawn and their maces. The blood has been cleared away; it's now obvious that these small holes will stop bleeding very soon. No need for magic, just a good dab of poultice. I tie a bandage around his leg. Not too tight, of course. "Here you are."

He happily stretches his leg, bends, stretches. "Thank you. You have a very gentle touch." That face. Where have I seen it before? I'm positive I have never seen him in Redcliffe. But where? Oh, well.

"Indeed she does," Zevran chuckles, giving a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

"Uhm, aren't you cold?" During the battle, the elf was nimbly flitting around and killing things. Wearing nothing but a pair of knee breeches. I'm not complaining, but this is Ferelden, after all.

Right on cue, the Antivan shivers. "Yes, I should perhaps put on more clothing."

"And I think I should put on less bloody pants." Virgil rises, the two exchange a quick look, break into identical grins and walk away. I bet they are going to warm each other up. Rawr. What should I do now? Looks like nobody needs me.

Or maybe somebody does. Stubbs comes bounding towards me. He looks pleased with himself, all covered in blood. "Aw, there's my sweet boy! Have you killed a lot of nasty darkspawn, hm?" Happy bark. "Are you hurt?" He whines, showing me the top of his head. A mean cut has nearly sliced his right ear in two. "Poor baby. I'll stitch it for you, and then you'll be good as new." Disdainful grunt. "No stitches?" The dog shakes his head; no doubt this is something he picked up from us. He licks my hand, whining plaintively. "You want me to use magic for your ear, don't you, little smarty-pants?" Happy bark. "Okay, but you know what has to happen first." Stubbs hangs his head in resignation the moment my medical supplies come out. Tough as he is, the mabari makes no noise at all while I clean his injury. That's my good boy. Now for the healing spell... "Here you are, my pet, one neatly healed ear." Panting happily, my dog rubs his face against my stomach. I love the way these creatures show their gratitude, and various other emotions. "Go on then, go play or something." After demanding I pet him some more, Stubbs bounces off to do who knows what. I love that dog.

Arl Eamon is keeping watch over his soldiers who are digging graves for their fallen comrades, sadly shaking his head from time to time. I approach and briefly touch his arm. "My lord, how are you feeling?"

He seems to be looking straight through me. "I am unhurt, Warden. Thank you." The old man sighs, rubbing his bearded chin in thought. "What must I tell their families? Vera was only just married…"

"I'm sorry for your losses, my lord." In an attempt at comfort, I pat the man on the shoulder. "I'm not the best of diplomats, but if you need any help…"

Eamon nods vaguely, obviously only half-aware of my presence. It must be both a curse and a blessing to be so sympathetic towards the people in one's service. To care so much about them and be involved in their lives. An arm is laid around my shoulders. "Best to leave him alone for now," my fellow Wardens whispers in my ear. "How are you, Aster? Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm good. You?"

Al nods toward the bloody bandage around his upper arm. "Just a tiny nick."

"Fiddlesticks, Alistair." Carefully I remove the fabric. The tiny nick is actually a deep, deep gash, still oozing blood. "Being hardcore, are we? Sit." Being a big, tough man, he sputters about how he's fine and others might need my attention, but lets me have my way in the end. "You men... Whine and bitch about a headache, but when your arm is about to fall off? Oh, just a tiny nick." A thorough disinfection and minor healing spell later, the cut is reduced to a narrow, pink line. "See, isn't that better?"

"It still wasn't necessary," he mumbles in semi-disgruntlement. "Thanks anyway." Well, looks like the mood for tonight has been thoroughly ruined. Fucking darkspawn. Upon seeing the look on my face, the Warden says: "I'm sorry. This is such a mess." He squeezes my hand once, then lets go. "I… need to be alone tonight. Hope you don't mind."

Pity. "I understand." We couldn't prevent our companions' deaths. Of course he wants to be alone. I have been neglecting my studies of the Spirit Healer spells lately; even then, I'm not sure the one that brings people back from the dead is for real. "Good night then, my friend. Everything will seem better in the morning."

"It won't make them any less dead." Listlessly he gestures at the burial mounds. "Well, at least we get to live another day." After looking around suspiciously for a moment, Al kisses me. Warm, and passionate. The warmth is short-lived, as his features drop almost immediately after. "Sleep well, kitty." And so he trudges to his tent, all alone. Poor darling.


	175. The Road to Denerim - A Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oghren brings Astoreth a message.

### The Road to Denerim - A Letter

"Astoreth, all injuries have been treated," Wynne suddenly says behind me. "Oghren wishes to have a word with you. He wouldn't say what about." She hasn't seen anything. She hasn't seen anything. She hasn't seen anything. If she had, she'd complain about it. Probably.

"Huh, really? All right then." What would he want? Oh well, I might as well use the opportunity to ask him about Felsi. "Thanks." Only then do I notice how the old lady is sporting a large lump on her forehead. "Who did that to you?" I've never noticed any darkspawn leaving such minor wounds.

She chuckles awkwardly. "Ah yes, that is very… embarrassing. I was in the process of putting on my boots, grabbing my staff and running out of my tent." Wynne looks away, blushing. "I tripped."

"Aw, I'm sorry." I'm trying very hard not to burst out laughing. How silly is this? We wage a life-or-death struggle with our mortal enemies, and this woman gets hurt hurrying out of her tent. It's funny, in a tragic kind of way. "Will you be all right?"

"Sure, child, make fun of the silly granny." Chuckling in amusement, the old lady rubs her head. "Just get to Oghren, you."

"Yes, ma'am." Everything will get back to normal soon enough. Even those that lost their comrades have to keep it together. They don't call it 'soldiering on' for nothing, I suppose. "How's it going, Oghren? Any luck with your lady friend?"

He grins up at me, warming himself by the fire. "Heh, well, I said: "Are you sure you're not a baker? Because you've got a sodding nice set of buns." Aw, yeah."

"Ooh, how seductive! And did she then throw herself in your arms, begging for you to make sweet, sweet love to her?"

"No, not yet, but I expect it to happen the next time I see her." His grin quickly fades. "So uh, I kind of took the liberty of visiting your boyfriend for you…"

"My boyfriend?" My heart stops beating. For several moments, I can't breathe. "You mean Jowan?" I gasp eventually. "Why would you _do_ that?"

Oghren helps me to sit down, patting me on the shoulder all the while. "Breathe, lady, breathe. I just wanted to know what the big deal was about that Tranquillity stuff." His expression darkens. "He looks good, you know. They managed to fatten the skinny blighter up a little. But then I saw how there is nothing left of _him_ , and well..." The dwarf dangles an envelope before my nose. "Jimmy gave me this. For you."

"Thank you." I'm not even going to correct him again. "Do you think you and Felsi will get back together again?"

"Maybe." He shrugs uncaringly. "The girl just needs some time. Oh yeah, your boy gave me this fruity shirt, said it belongs to old knife-ears. I ought to go find him." Slightly unsteady, Oghren struggles to his feet.

"You might want to hold off on giving Zevran that." I twirl the unopened envelope between my fingers. "Unless you want to see some pipe-cleaning in progress."

Strawberry red eyebrows knit together. "Huh, you know, that could be…" He vehemently shakes his head. The braids in his beard swing about rather comically. "No, no. Here, you give it to him." A soft, periwinkle blue object is dumped in my lap. "Oh, by the way..." Oghren grins another one of his trademark lascivious grins. "Johnny also gave me something else for you." Grin even wider, the dwarf pulls something from his pocket. Bright red, stamped with faded white butterflies. Is that...? Suddenly he brings the item up to his nose and inhales. "Ahh..."

"Ew, _Oghren_!" I attempt to snatch the panties I once left with Jowan (because that's what the red and white thing is) from his hands, but fail. "That is disgusting."

"I wish it was." He chuckles dirtily. "They've been laundered. Very sad." With a well-aimed toss, he lands my knickers on top of Zevran's shirt.

I roll my eyes. "You are such a filthy little freak." All in good humour, of course.

"Says the woman who leaves worn underwear with her lover," he retorts. I blush. That is absolutely true, even though I suppose it was Jowan who wanted to keep them. "Yeah, got you there, didn't I? Goodnight, Warden."

"Night, Oghren." So, a letter. For me. From Jowse. Normal or Tranquil? Ugh, on the one hand I'm dying to read it. On the other hand, I would rather not. Better to bite the bullet. I break the seal and see a sheet of vellum, covered in a familiar scrawl.

_Dear Tori,_

_Tomorrow I will be made Tranquil. After all my struggles against it, all the stupid things I've done, it's going to happen anyway. I'm sorry I let you down. You were so eager to help me escape. How are you now? Still feeling bad about me? Don't. You have made me happier than anybody else has. You are my best friend, and an even better lover. I realize now that you are the love of my life, not Lily, not Daniela. You. Ever since you stole my heart, I've fallen asleep with you in my mind. Waking up next to you was indescribable. Even now, with Tranquillity looming over me like a dark shadow, I can't think of anyone or anything else._

_When all is said and done, however, I want you to be happy. Don't save yourself on my account. Find someone to love you for all you are worth. Which is a lot. More than you think. You are so passionate, so loving and caring. And because I think you deserve it, I have prepared a little surprise for you. It's over six feet tall, blond, and listens to the name of Alistair. He once let slip how much he likes you. You know, in a naughty kind of way. I can tell that he loves you a great deal. It's not quite like what we have, but it's close. Does he still prattle on and on about how wonderful you are? I hope he does. You need someone to remind of you these things._

_In any case, I've told him a few interesting facts about you. About how you like to be touched, kissed, held. About that little spot in your neck that never fails to make you meow like a kitten. He's just going to have to find out about everything else himself. Surprise! I know, I know. I acted like a jealous fool once. You are so amazing I don't want to share you. But now that we're apart and I'm about to be cut off from my emotions, why should I be selfish and hold on to that? I know he can make you happy. You can make him happy too. Kind of a troubled lad, that Alistair. He's a nice guy who deserves a nice girl though._

_If by the time this letter reaches you that boy hasn't made his move yet, I will be very cross. Or not. You know what I mean. Tell him I said hi, and that his friendship has meant a lot to me. I won't throw around the L-word, even if that's kind of what it all boils down to. No matter how much you would like that, I'm still not gay, not in the slightest. Sorry. I bet you have this scene playing through your head, where I declare my deepest feelings to Alistair and we end up in bed together. Yes, young lady, I have you all figured out._

_Ugh, my hand is getting numb from all this writing. Will you believe they let me have my favourite meal tonight? It's not like my taste buds will be affected by the Rite or anything, but very well. I'm not complaining. I love my roast beef. There is also less glaring than I would have expected. Obviously Greagoir isn't happy with how it all turned out, but he doesn't treat me like dirt either. They must all be shook up from what happened here still. Sometimes the old templar or Irving just shake their heads as if I have disappointed them very badly. Which might be even worse than endless beatings and being yelled at a lot._

_By the way, how is Collin? Have you found a good home for him? Darkspawn-filled roads are no place for a baby. Must be tough on you. Don't worry, Tori. After all this is over, you can be with your child as much as you like. I wish I had seen earlier just how special you are. We could have had a somewhat normal life together, you and I. Fate, thou art a cruel bitch. See? Your dirty mouth has rubbed off on me. Heh, no pun intended._

_I'm sorry I asked you to come visit. I should've known that seeing me like an empty husk would hurt you. If this letter magically (anything is possible when you're a mage, right?) reaches you before you come to the Circle, know that I won't hold you to that promise. Seeing your beautiful smile in my last dreams tonight is all I need. Goodbye, my amazing Grey Warden. Remember that my heart belongs to you._

_Yours until the end,_

_Jowan._

_P.S. I will also return your panties. They have kept me warm many a night, but I don't think I'll need them anymore. No, I haven't been wearing them. That would be silly. I love you._

I can't even fathom half of what's in this letter. Tears are streaming down my face. No matter how many I wipe away, they keep coming. I miss you so much.


	176. The Road to Denerim - Unexpected Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This night is just full of surprises... 
> 
> And have I mentioned before that I've done a few drawings of pretty much everyone but Sten? Not sure if I can post links here, but check this out: http://natmonkey.deviantart.com/gallery/26690429/Fan-Art If it doesn't work, look for Natmonkey on deviantArt. Maybe even let me know what you think.

### The Road to Denerim - Unexpected Comfort

" _Kadan_?" A heavy hand is suddenly laid on my shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

"No, not really." I make sure not to look in his direction. "Are you?" Not that it matters; my voice is thick and weepy.

Sten gives me no answer; instead, he sits down beside me. "I'm fine. Why are you crying?"

"Why do you care? Do you want to know if I'm fit to lead?" I uselessly wipe the tears from my eyes. Of all the people who had to see me like this... "Of course I am. I may look like shit now, but I'll be fine in the morning."

"Don't be like that, _kadan_. I only wish to know what troubles you, so that I might help." Somehow the man looks less stern than he usually does. But still. "Tell me."

I sigh. "Fine…" Again I wipe my face. "Oghren went to the Circle and met Jowan. He'd written me a letter." Oh dear. I've crumpled it rather badly. "I just… miss him, I suppose. I wish he were still with me." Crap, here I go again.

Something strange is happening. Sten picks me up and sits me on his lap, cradling me to his chest as if I'm a child. "You have been put through a lot, _kadan_." His voice is but a low murmur somewhere above my head, his hand soothingly stroking my back. "This too shall pass."

I would like to say that that's trite bullshit and some things just never stop hurting, but all I can do is sob and cry. Worthless. Furthermore, I'm stunned; I had never thought the stoic giant could ever be this kind to me. He continues holding me, telling me that everything will be all right. Maybe everything will be all right. Cullen's love for me immediately cooled after that debacle in Kinloch Hold and he doesn't even know we have a son together; I got over that, didn't I? But perhaps that only happened because Jowan was there to look after me. What must I do now? I have Alistair and Zevran, and at the same time I don't have them. Not really. It's just not the same. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do without him."

"Life goes on, regardless." Sten gently tilts my face upwards. "Focus on other matters, as you always have, and you will see that your pain fades away." It's strange. The steely look I've come to know so well in those violet eyes has softened. Why, I don't know. Maybe he just can't stand to see a woman cry.

"That... is really sound advice." I sniffle and pull my handkerchief from my pocket. I'm not even given a chance to use it, as the Qunari takes it from my hand to dab my wet cheeks. "Uhm, thank you."

The corners of his mouth are turned up slightly. "You're welcome, _kadan_."

"What is this word you keep calling me?" I can't believe I've never asked this. Probably too afraid.

" _Kadan_ means that which is held close to the heart," he declares solemnly. "You became this the day you returned my sword to me."

"Oh..." I'd always thought it meant something like 'dung-dweller', or more simply, 'idiot'. Still the man is wiping my face; the flood of tears is drying up, however. Thank goodness. "I... I... Whoa. Thank you."

He nods solemnly. "You're welcome."

So yeah... I don't have much to say. Lying in his arms is very comfortable and comforting, but I'm sure he doesn't want to stay here all night. There will be more travelling in the morning. "Hey, do you mind if I retire for the night now?"

"That depends. Do you feel better?"

I nod. "Yes, I most certainly do." Who would have thought Sten, of all people, would be the one to soothe my grief? I'm still not sure this isn't a dream. More innocent than I'm used to though.

He briefly studies my face and finds I'm speaking the truth. "Very well. You may go."

"Thanks again." I get up. "Goodnight, Sten."

"Goodnight, _kadan_." The Qunari has released me almost wistfully. I kind of wish I were still being held. Oh well, too late to change my damned mind now. Also, was I just bonding with the Sten? Whoa. I guess Leliana didn't just make up that stuff about the kitten and the flowers.

~*|'-'|*~

All right, let's get these boots off. I do feel better. A lot, in fact. Wonder what Jowan is doing right now. Oh yes. Sleeping, I'm sure. Tranquil have this very strict set of habits they adhere to. It's part of their charm. Some side of me, no doubt the part that enjoys poking into darkspawn corpses with pointy sticks, really wants to see what he is like now. Of course I will still visit him. If only because it might help me overcome this. I can't just burst into tears whenever I'm suddenly reminded of his fate. Come to think of it... He's been more or less enticing Alistair into taking his place? Maker's breath. He must have loved me a lot. I remember how he was all jealous that one time. Convincing him of my loyalty was so much fun. Ah, yes... And now I've taken Al into my bed, doing exactly as Jowan apparently wanted. Aren't we all winners here?

"Meow?"

"What the..." A small black cat has somehow wandered into my tent. It's rubbing its little head against my knee, eyes closed and purring. Seems friendly enough. "Why, hello kitty." Thick, soft fur. What an adorable little thing. The creature rubs up against my hand, its tail curling around my leg. Cats can be so affectionate. Then it opens one golden, purple-rimmed eye. "Morrigan? Are you mucking about with your transformations again?"

A flash of light and the witch is practically sitting in my lap. "I must stay sharp, I will have you know. If I were to forget how to change my form, I would never forgive myself." She eyes me amusedly, shaking her head. "I happened to pass by the fire, and what do I see? My friend lying in the arms of the man I've been dying to bed. How do you achieve these things? I must know your secret."

"Uh, do you think I've been getting intimate with Sten? Because that is so not the case." I pull the hastily inserted pins from my hair to free it from the no doubt messy bun it was in. "Oghren brought me a letter from Jowan; it just brought back some memories." Good memories that are now all too painful. "Sten found me crying by the fire and took it upon himself to comfort me." Morrigan smirks at me. "In a completely non-sexual way."

"Such a pity." The witch clicks her tongue. "I still wonder about the Qunari act." Flopping onto her back on my bedroll, the woman gives me a quizzical stare. Her nipples are in grave danger of being exposed. Somehow the loose fabric of her top doesn't reveal them. Too bad. I... am incorrigible. "Do you know anything of it?"

I shrug. "I'm told you need armour and a helmet, and preferably something to bite down on. So male Qunari are either painfully well-endowed, or they are just not very nice." I flop down beside Morrigan. There is an atmosphere like we are teenagers talking about girl stuff. We're grown women speculating about Qunari mating habits, but it's essentially the same.

Licking her lips rather lasciviously, she purrs: "Well, I would like to find that out for myself someday." For a few moments she eyes me worriedly. "Are you still haunted by the thought of your lover?" I shake my head, and she nods. "Good, I am glad. Now that we are on the subject…" Her voluptuous red mouth curls into a wicked smile. "How was his performance?"

"Lady, he would knock your socks off. And if you weren't wearing any socks, he'd make them appear and _then_ knock them off." I laugh at the girl's puzzled expression. "I mean, he was fan-tas-tic. The best. Amazing. Had a great love for oral sex."

She rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Typical man to constantly want a woman's face in his lap."

"No, no, I mean he liked to give it, not get it." Expert tongue. Mmm... Why am I getting turned on all of a sudden? "Not that he would say no to any flesh flute playing, mind you."

"My, my," the witch chuckles. "Who would have thought that your unassuming little blood mage would be so... eager." She idly tugs at the loose wisps of hair that come peeping out of her bun. "He must have satisfied your every desire, what with the way you always looked like the cat that got the cream." Abruptly she clears her throat. "I apologize. Such details are far too intimate, I understand; I still cannot prevent myself from asking."

I shrug. "That's another thing friends apparently do. They tell each other every little sordid detail. Besides, I don't mind talking about it." Actually, I kind of like it. I've missed having a friend. "Let me ask you something: when did you lose your virginity?"

"Ah..." She chuckles sexily and spends a few moments staring off into space. "That is quite the tale, my friend. It happened, I think, almost seven years ago." Languidly stretching her lithe body, she continues: "Flemeth had captured a merchant to see to her needs. This merchant, however, was not alone. He had a son, a comely lad about my own age." A predatory grin spreads across her face. "I knew I fancied him the moment I found him tied up and gagged on my bed..."


	177. The Road to Denerim - Time to D-D-D-Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a duel. But who are the fighters?

### The Road to Denerim - Time to D-D-D-Duel

Oh boy, I'm tired. Morrigan regaled me with sassy stories of her sexual escapes all night long. I did fall asleep at some point, but it feels like I slept about an hour, if that. So funny; when I awoke, I found Morrigan with her face buried in my chest and drooling on me rather inelegantly. I will save that mental picture forever. And tease her with it whenever I can. Haha!

Wynne was pleased as punch with the _Amorous Adventures of the Lascivious Lord Stiffington_. The old lady has been reading it with bright red cheeks, gasping in shock and chuckling dirtily from time to time. I haven't seen her put it down once. Not even during dinner. The others were just staring into empty space the whole time, nobody seemed to feel like talking. No darkspawn attacks. No puppies, kittens or other cute baby animals threatened to be harmed by mean, mean people. Nothing. Zip. Zero. It was all a bit boring. I can't stop giggling about seeing that hickey on Virgil's neck though. Naughty Zevran.

Tonight I am alone again, sadly. No invitations from anyone. I've not bothered to put on my nightgown; I'm not even slightly sleepy, so why should I? Boring. Lonely. Stubbs may be taking up a big part of my tent and hogging my bedroll, but it's not really the same. He doesn't talk. In a way that I can understand, anyway. And sexy times are definitely out of the question. I am not _that_ adventurous. That is just wrong. Yuck.

"Stubbs?" I scratch him between the ears, and the mabari opens one sleepy eye. "Care to play fetch with me?" He grunts, then continues sleeping. That is obviously a no. Boooring. I have nothing to _do_. I'm not even slightly sleepy. What would Alistair be doing? Snoring? I suppose I could go and barge into his tent again, but he seemed a bit gloomy still. And to think he believes he wouldn't be a good king. He is so compassionate. So kind, and understanding. If necessary, he can even be strict. Oh well. It's up to him. If he doesn't want to rule this country, that is his choice. Man... I can't believe we slept together yesterday. It still hasn't sunk in, I think.

What about Zevran? Is he with Virgil again? Must be. Ugh. Two lovers, and neither of them available. Maybe I should find a few more, just to make sure I will never be alone again. Some lovemaking would be nice right about now. Funny. In the past I always used to be alone, or most of the time. Used to bitch and whine about not having enough privacy, not enough space to myself. Now I can't stand it. Probably because I've become so used to always having Collin around. My little man, always there for me to love and hold and take care of. Your mommy will come for you soon, darling.

Looks like I need to take another one of those strolls. A cloak would be great in this cold country. I will definitely have to pick one up during that girls' outing. Goose bump temperatures, again. Brrr... When will we finally be in Denerim? I'm getting sick of all this travelling. Granted, if we'd had to walk all this way, it would have taken only a day short of forever, but still. Bah, I'm so sick of seeing roads. Roads, roads, roads. The occasional forest or village. Sometimes a house in the middle of nowhere. After this, I'm so going to take a long break from all this travelling. I will not do anything, I will only lie in my bed. I will not answer any knocks on my door, or open letters that might be delivered for me. Yes, that's right, I said it: _nothing at all_. Simply because I can. Probably for only a few days until fate sends me elsewhere, but still. A girl can dream, right? Mmm, I could eat lots and lots of chocolate, and... Get really fat. I could eat some chocolate, and lots and lots of sweet, yummy carrots, maybe a few-...

" _Kadan_." As per his usual routine, good old Sten rudely pulls me out of any thoughts that I might have had. "Why are you out here at this hour?"

What was I thinking of, again? I hate when that happens. "I'm just having trouble sleeping."

"I have the same problem." He nods quietly. "Perhaps we are both in need of exercise."

Exercise? Well, well… That sounds rather suggestive. Or maybe it's just me. "What kind of exercise did you have in mind?" The naked kind could be fun… I'm horrible. I already have two men at my disposal, I don't need a third. Although it would be nice, regardless. The more, the merrier!

"I watched you fight yesterday; your skill is considerable." Briefly he looks me up and down, this harmless little mage in banged up, tight-fitting robes. "Perhaps you would like to spar with me."

"It's an honour you consider me good enough to train with a warrior like yourself." I bow, as a sign of respect for his martial skill. "Let me just get my weapons, then." All I have now is my dagger, just in case. Sten doesn't have his trusty blade with him either, so we decide to meet by a clump of trees out in the distance. We won't be bothering our companions with any screaming or bleeding business this way. This is… kind of exciting. And intimidating. I'm not bad, but there is no doubt that the Qunari could chop me in half whenever he so pleases. I like myself whole, personally. Just one big unending piece of Astoreth, yes indeed.

"Warden! " Oghren calls me from the fire. He's waving enthusiastically.

"Oh, hey Oghren."

The dwarf grins from ear to ear. "Warden, look over there!" He points somewhere in the distance.

"Why, what's over there?" I see nothing of note.

"Now back to me!"

Sigh. "Fine, what's the big-..." Whoa, what now?

"I'm on a horse!" he proclaims proudly, puffing out his chest. His pony gives me an uninterested look and chews on a few wildflowers growing near its feet.

"What the... How did you _do_ that?" The horse was nowhere near him, and I didn't even look away for _that_ long.

Oghren shrugs. "Eh, it's just some special effects, nothing to get your knickers in a twist over."

"Special... I... What?" Ow, my head is beginning to hurt. "You know what, I'll just leave you to it, before my brain explodes."

"Yeah, okay. See you." Clicking his tongue, he taps his heels against the pony's body. "Come on, Milky, let's take a ride." They ride off into the night. Sunset or sunrise would have been cooler. That was the weirdest thing ever, and I would do best to just forget it completely. On to the duel, then.

Sten is casually leaning against a tree, Asala's lovingly polished blade already gleaming in the moonlight. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose." I assume my regular fighting stance; my shield is ready to protect me, my sword ready to attack.

"Good." The giant abruptly charges, bellowing: " _Anaan esaam Qun_!"

His blade meets my shield with a dull clang. "That's rude, Sten. You could have at least warned me." I push him back, simultaneously jabbing at his now unprotected side. Naturally he easily parries my moves. Damn, but he's quick.

"The element of surprise can tilt the balance in your favour." With a rapid swing, the giant aims for my head. I get to keep it, for now. "Remember that."

"Element of surprise, you say?" I have a little something to slow the man down. Another parry later, I try to prepare my surprise for him, but am surprised myself. Asala cuts a deep path into my forearm.

Sten immediately lowers his blade. " _Kadan_ , are you-…" He staggers back, covered in a thin layer of frost. Cone of Cold, ever the useful spell. His movements instantly become more sluggish. He roars in fury.

I gleefully toss a bolt of arcane energy in his direction; it hits him in the shoulder and messes up his balance. "Surprise!" It seems I have fully tipped the scales in my favour with this. The Qunari is teetering on his unsteady legs, teeth chattering. One last spell to finish it off. Pebbles and rocks on the ground gather into a huge, vaguely fist-shaped lump that strikes the man square in the chest. He falls; the ground thunders. Naturally I, as a true victor, capitalize on my success by triumphantly sitting myself on his chest. "Ha!"

"Using your magic was a foul trick," Sten grumbles, angrily glaring at me.

"I fight to win, my friend, not for honour and glory. Shouldn't we use any skill we have at our disposal?" I show him my profusely bleeding arm. "This hurts, you know. It's all blood that did not have to be spilled."

He scoffs. "It is far from my fault that you are too slow, _kadan_. It was not my intention to hurt you, however." Gently he peels my armlet off. Even that is painful. "I shall wash and repair this for you."

"Why, thank you. You are too kind." I pat him on the shoulder. "Then I will get my wound cleaned and bandaged."

"That is perhaps for the best." He stares up at me. "Will you get off me now?"

I show him my most victorious, smug grin. "No, I actually kind of like it up here. I won, so it's time for some well-earned gloating. Na-na-na, I wooon..." Winning! Oh. Why am I so horny all of a sudden? Do I like winning that much? Or am I simply hoping that Sten asserts his dominance over me by dragging me into the bushes and having his way with me? Yes, it might be that. I don't know what my problem is. Sometimes I think I need help. But then I remember I haven't been sexually active for that long and that everything is new and exciting, and that this man's exotic otherness is quite… inspiring. Mmm, he must be quite well-endowed. I mean, look at him. And I know I like that great big expanse of firm muscle. Oh yes…

"Bravo!" The sound of stone smashing into stone abruptly snaps me back into reality. "A spectacular fight." Turns out, those sounds are being made by Shale, who is applauding loudly. "For a while, it seemed as if the Qunari was a sure winner, until _wham_!" She smashes her fist into the palm of her other hand. "The Grey Warden used its powers of stone. _Stone_! Mage or no, stone is always a winner in my book." This seems like genuine enthusiasm. Huh.

I accept her hand to help me up. "Thanks, Shale. Never thought you would ever take my side over Sten's."

"Only when it is deserving of this," the golem declares haughtily. "Anything as small and weak as it besting something as large and superior as a Qunari deserves my praise."

"Your underhanded compliments both flatter me greatly, and humiliate me. So, I thank you." Polite curtsy. "And I curse you." Quasi-angry fist shake. "Goodnight, all."


	178. The Road to Denerim - Appreciation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth gets her injuries cleaned.

### The Road to Denerim - Appreciation

I've left Sten and Shale behind, the latter harassing the former about letting a puny human win. He didn't _let_ me win. Pshah, stupid golems and Qunari always with their damned superiority complexes. Oh, that's funny; Stubbs isn't in my tent anymore, sleeping just outside the entrance instead. All the more room for yours truly. "Where have you been?" Or not. "With your other lover again?"

"Yeah, I wish. I was sparring with Sten, actually. Get the lamp, would you?" The interior of my tent lights up in faint orange. "You only need look at me to convince yourself." This cut stings like nobody's business, along with a different kind of feeling that is raging through my system. I take off my shrug and throw it in a corner. My remaining armlet immediately follows suit.

"Oh, dear." My guest immediately dives into my pack. "Where do you keep your medical supplies? Never mind, here they are." He approaches with some cloth, soaked in disinfectant. "Really, Astoreth, are you insane? Sparring with Sten..." Mumbling under his breath, he gingerly begins cleaning my wound. I've never liked the way this stings. Who would? But look, there is something very nice here to distract me. "Mmm, stop it," my companion moans, closing his eyes. "I am trying to help you here."

I chuckle, only briefly pausing my nibbles on his delightful ear to get out a few words: "Come on, Zev, I'll still be hurt later." These cute ears are one of his many good points. Hee, I love them so.

"You will drive me insane one day, woman." With a growl he pounces, pushing me onto my back and pinning my arms above my head. Impatiently he yanks down my panties, then thrusts two fingers between my folds. My back arches, a sound half-way between a moan and a gasp escapes me. "Well, well, it looks like someone is in dire need of my services tonight." Zevran quickly replaces his fingers with what I like best about him. "Is this what you wanted, _piccola_?" His thrusts are tantalizingly slow and shallow, but I cannot even protest. With his fingers, tasting of me, stuffed down my mouth, I am able only to nod and look desperate. "Ah yes, I know what you like. Shall I give it to you?" My eyes tell him to fuck me, fuck me hard and extinguish the fire raging under my skin. "Hm." The elf's response is a dazzling smile that lights up his entire face. "I never could resist those eyes of yours."

Just like that, he begins pounding into me with all his might. Hard and fast, just the way I like it. His fingers effectively muffle the screams I would have uttered otherwise. At this rate, I will turn into a dribbling little puddle of pure pleasure. For a few moments he stops abruptly, thankfully to flip me onto my belly and continue to drive into me with wild abandon. If there is anything I like more than being fucked hard and fast, it's being fucked hard and fast from behind. Mmm... I have to push my face into my pillow in order to keep quiet. But then... "No, no, please, try to hold back," I whimper pleadingly. To no avail, I fear. The throbbing only gets worse.

"Forgive me, my dear, I cannot." Moaning softly, the assassin finishes with one last, powerful thrust. Subsequently he flops down on me. "Have I told you lately that I adore you, _fiammina_?" he whispers breathlessly, nuzzling my neck.

"Can't say I've heard that one from you before, no." That's the nicest thing he's ever said to me. And he has said quite a few nice things. "You're such a sweetheart."

A few affectionate kisses later I get that pungent smell of disinfectant in my nose. "Now will you let me help you?" Without awaiting an answer, Zevran resolutely plants me on my bedroll. "Sit still. No more ear-nibbling, yes?" He looks at me as if I'm a naughty child.

"Yes, Zev." Meekly I show him my arm. "Please forgive me for being such a horny strumpet."

"It is one of your best traits," he replies with a wink. Then he inspects my injury, eyebrows pulled into a frown. "For shame. Sten should have been more careful with you."

Gritting my teeth as he washes away the blood, I try my best not to start crying. "Why? It's not like the bloody darkspawn do that." Gah, this hurts worse than actually getting the cut. I should not have waited this long.

"True, but the Qunari has the ability to think, where darkspawn do not." Ow, ow, ow. "Oh, my poor darling." With a look of infinite pity, the elf wipes away a tear that I didn't even notice trickling down the side of my face. "You are very brave and very tough, but you should not be afraid to express your pain when it becomes too much." Tenderly he presses a light kiss to my wrist. "I would not think any less of you if you were to shed any tears in my presence."

"Thanks, Zev, but I-..." Gentle though his ministrations may be, the disinfectant coming into direct contact with my wound still hurts like the blazes. "Ow, _fuck_!"

"Or you can swear, whatever works for you," he chuckles amusedly. "Now, my dear, all I will need is a bandage and we are done." Rummaging through my stuff, he finds what he is looking for. Neatly he wraps a long strip of fabric around my arm.

Awww... "This is a nice touch." He has tied the ends into the cutest little bow. "You always take such good care of me, thank you." I fling my arms around him; together we tumble onto my bedroll. Those thick lips of his are perfect for kissing. And of course, while we are thus engaged, sweet Zevran seizes this opportunity to deftly open all ribbons and clasps that keep my corset closed. Ah, freedom. He showers me with kisses, bare skin and cloth alike, makes me squeal and moan with every single one.

"I have missed you so these past few nights," he breathes against my throat.

"Aw, I've missed you too." It's not entirely true, but telling him that I was too busy deflowering Alistair to even think of him wouldn't be very nice of me. "Wait. Why are you here? I thought you'd be with Virgil again." Zev promptly stops his treatment; I give him an encouraging pat on the head. "Trouble in paradise, sweetie?"

He sits himself beside me, sighing forlornly. "You could say that. I do not like the way he treats me."

"Well, he seems very affectionate, but so are you. What exactly is the problem?" I wrap my arm around his shoulders and pull him a little closer. "I thought you seemed uncomfortable earlier."

"Yes, that is true. He... he treats me as if I am a pet!" Zevran sputters indignantly. "Being treated like a whore occasionally is marvellous fun, I admit, but all the time? When Virgil once again insisted I call him 'master', I stormed out of his tent and came looking for you." Curving an arm around my waist, he laughs. "All I found was your dog glaring at me for disturbing his sleep. It was quite the task too, shooing him out of here."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you." His face feels soft and smooth under my lips. "Have I kept you waiting for a very long time?" Only a little while, apparently. "Good. Look, I'm sure that if you talk to him about it, he will understand. Surely he sees you as another person, and not as his slave."

The Antivan throws out a few curses in his native tongue. "Away with him! If it is too much trouble for him to treat me as an equal, he can march to the Black City for all I care. Humph."

"Well, my good man, as long as you know that _I_ appreciate you." I am met with no resistance as I begin peeling off his shirt. "I appreciate you a lot." This smooth plain of caramel skin mesmerizes me. The few pale pink scars only add to his appeal, I think. Even more so than the inky tendrils of his tattoos.

Zev smiles; he seems pleased with the attention, with the no doubt appreciative way my eyes sweep his beautiful form. "I appreciate you too, my sweet. Shall I demonstrate how much so?" Probably since he knows my answer already anyway, he slides the straps of my dress down my shoulders.

"Oh, would you?" Tossing away my brassiere, not caring where it might land, I bare my breasts for him. "That would be just lovely…" The elf promptly crawls over me, wild and seductive like a stalking cat, to pick things up where he had left them off. Sweet Maker, but I'm a lucky girl.


	179. The Road to Denerim - The Last Assignment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zevran finally gets something off his chest.

### The Road to Denerim - The Last Assignment

"Ah..." I sigh contently, nestling against the elf's warm body. "Bet you never thought this would happen when you came here to kill us, huh?"

Zevran chuckles; the sound is oddly joyless. "No, I could never have dreamed you would be this welcoming."

"Hey, are you all right?" Sitting up, I look down on my companion. Something's not right here. "You look... unhappy."

"I'm sorry." He runs a hand over his face. "I was just thinking of... Don't be alarmed, please." The ghost of a wan smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Come, lie down."

I shake my head. "No, Zevran, I can tell you're not at all in the right mood for this. What's wrong?"

"I suppose you are right, _fiammina_." With a sad sigh, the elf also moves into a sitting position. The covers slide down his body; I shouldn't be staring so luridly at him, but I can't help myself. "May I tell you about my last mission? It is quite a long story, however..."

"Of course you may tell me about it." Finally! Last time I tried to drag this out of him, he got quiet as well, and refused to even open his mouth. Neatly I wrap my blanket around him. How adorable he looks, with only his head peeping out. "There. Go ahead."

Zev smiles, for real this time. "You have been a good friend; I am certain I can trust you with this now." His eyes scan my movements as I hunt for some clothes, but his words don't stop coming. "My last mission before this one... did not end well. Now, you must realize I was cocky and arrogant, until that day." Cockier than this? Really? It seems he has read my mind: "I know what you want to say, _fiammina_..." Briefly his eyes light up with mirth.

"Don't mind me." I look away in shame. Damn, am I that easy to read? "Sorry, continue."

"In any case, I believed to be the best Crow in Antiva, and often bragged of my conquests, as both an assassin, and a lover." A smile flits across his features; no doubt he is thinking of one of those conquests right now. But, you know, fair's fair: he is great in the sack. I'm not very convinced of the stealthy assassin thing, though. "Then one of the Crow masters grew tired of my boasting. Surprisingly, my bid on a wealthy merchant with many guards, an extremely difficult mark, was accepted." The expression on his face changes into a sadder one. "On my team there was an elven lass, Rinna. She was... a marvel." The plot thickens. Something must have happened to this girl, especially since he mentions her in the past tense. "Tough, smooth, wicked. Eyes that gleamed like justice. Everything I thought I desired."

How poetic, and sweet. Zev had a crush on someone. Aw... "You fell in love with her, didn't you?"

"Rinna was special," he skilfully dodges the question. "I thought I had closed off my heart, but she touched something within me. It frightened me." Shivering lightly, the elf nestles deeper into the blanket. "When Taliesen, the other member of my team, revealed to me that Rinna had accepted a bribe from the merchant, I..." He swallows thickly. "I readily agreed that she needed to pay the price and allowed Taliesen to kill her..." His voice trails off. I'll keep quiet. Nothing I could say will help, anyway. Instead I wrap my arms around him, my cheek resting on his shoulder. "She begged me not to. On her knees, with tears in her eyes, she told me she loved me and hadn't betrayed us." The words come out mechanically, emotionless. "I laughed in her face, told her that even if that were true, I didn't care."

"That was a lie though, wasn't it?"

He inclines his head. "I convinced myself I meant it. Taliesen cut her throat and I watched her bleed as she stared up at me. I spat on her for betraying the Crows." Fear makes us do such strange things. The fear of loving someone in this case, I guess. "When we finally assassinated the merchant, we found out that Rinna had not betrayed us after all."

"I'm so sorry, Zevran." What else can I say?

Without even looking at me, he continues: "I wanted to tell the Crows what we had done, our mistake. Taliesen convinced me not to, because it would be a foolish waste. So we reported that Rinna had died in the attempt. There was no need; the master who disliked me told me to my face that the Crows knew. He said that they knew, and didn't care... And one day my turn would come."

"That... I don't even know what to say." I shake my head, tightening my hold on him. So tragic. No wonder he hides behind that smooth facade, and acts like he doesn't care about anything.

"You once asked me why I wanted to leave the Crows. In truth, what I wanted was to die." Zev barks out a bitter laugh. "What better way than to throw myself at one of the fabled Grey Wardens? And then... this happened. And here I am."

"I'm glad you are here, you know." I find myself rocking him in my arms without having noticed beginning this. Strange. "You've been through something really awful, I'm sorry."

Zevran makes a humming noise. "It... it feels good to speak of it to someone. I swore I never would."

"Funny how talking helps, huh? I've never been one for sharing myself, but after all this travelling with people who apparently care how you feel, well..."

"Again you have helped me. I owe you a great deal, Astoreth." His soft lips press a kiss to my forehead. I think that's the only place he can reach, trapped like this. Mine, all mine! Ahahaha...

"Don't be silly, you don't owe me anything." I gently coax him onto the bedroll. "It's late. Let's go to sleep, shall we?"

He nods, his expression relieved. "That is a good idea, yes." The elf kills the lights. "Thank you for everything."

"I will always be there if you need me." We lie there in the darkness for a while, closely huddled together under the blankets. His story was so heartrending. "Hey, Zev?"

"Yes, _fiammina_?"

"Do you still want to die?"

Immediately: "No, not anymore."

"Oh, whew, I'm happy to hear that." Now I can go to sleep with a clearer mind. "Sweet dreams, my friend."

"Sleep well, sweet Warden."


	180. The Road to Denerim - The Nerve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth is on a mission to set things straight.

### The Road to Denerim - The Nerve

Zevran looks very young like this, his face entirely relaxed. I've never seen him like this before. Staring for hours might make me feel like an intrusive creep, so I won't do that. He must be very fast asleep, for the light not to wake him. I can't seem to nod off. Besides, there is something I should take care of. The bloody nerve...

"Virgil?" I hiss near the entrance of the tent I hope is his. "Are you in there?"

The man immediately sticks his head out. "Oh good, it's you! Have you seen Zevran around? I couldn't find him, and-..."

"Yes, don't worry, he's fine." I beckon him closer. "Come out. You and I need to have a talk, mister."

"Maker's breath, what did he tell you?" he whimpers, an anxious expression on his face. "Please don't freeze me, or roast me, or whatever it is you mages do."

Waving my hand dismissively, I shake my head. "There is also electrocution or the traditional two feet of steel in the gut, but I'm not going to hurt you. Let's go for a walk."

"It's cold, and I don't feel like getting dressed. Can't you just come in?" The coachman shoots me a lopsided grin.

"I better not. My companions tend to talk, and tease, and giggle a lot." Not to mention what my boys would think if they somehow saw me crawl into this guy's tent. "But we can stay like this, if you like. There is nobody around."

Virgil sticks his head farther out of this tent; I catch a glimpse of bare muscular shoulder. Nice. "Fine. First off, what did he tell you?" He eyes me suspiciously. "I haven't laid a hand on him... Well, not maliciously, anyway."

"No, he just said you treat him like a pet and he doesn't like that."

"I see." He scratches his head. "I guess, maybe I do. But, come on..." Briefly his mouth stretches into a delighted smile. "He's so tiny and cute. They don't usually ask you to…" The man looks around suspiciously and lowers his voice. "To come on their face, you know. I've never been with anyone like him before."

Just look at those eyes, shining with affection. "You've got it bad for him, don't you?"

"Well, m-maybe I do," he returns defensively. His cheeks go beetroot. "Fine, I'm pretty sure I do." Eyes averted, he adds: "What he said the other day, it wasn't true. No offense, but I wasn't looking at you at all. I was looking at _him_." The man refuses to look at me, as if he's an obstinate child. "Yeah, I like him. So what?"

"I'll tell you what, mister." I roughly grab him by the chin, forcing him to look at me. "If you like him so much, you will bloody well show it in a normal way. No more treating him like your slave, or a house pet. I care about Zevran; he's been through a lot of shit, and you're going to help him forget all about it. _Right now_." His eyes widen under my hard stare. "Do I make myself clear?"

For a few moments, there is only a shocked silence. "Good gravy, yes! Crystal clear!"

"You're coming with me, to kiss and make up." Mmm, now there's a nice thought.

"Do I at least get to put on a shirt?" he asks meekly. "These Fereldan nights are not to be sneezed at." With my permission, he ducks back into his tent and emerges mere moments later. "All right, lead on."

I'm getting a crick in my neck. "By all that is good and holy in this world, you are _tall_." Hard to believe I haven't noticed this before.

"Yeah, I nearly wrecked my mother coming out of her," he chuckles. "She barely felt my sister after that. So, where is my little elf?" Upon the arrival at my tent, Virgil shoots it an appraising look. "Do I even fit in there?"

"I thought you'd like a tight fit." For a moment I manage to keep a straight face, then snort and giggle. All I get is a mild chuckle. Bet that's only because the man is afraid I will light him on fire. "Go on in. Everybody loves a big surprise." Ha! I am so on a roll.

"Hey..." The coachman looks down on me, a question in his eyes. "Why are you doing this? I'm not complaining or anything, but aren't you his girlfriend?"

I shrug. "Not really. Besides, who am I to stand in the way of what could be actual love?" No need to get all awkward, pfff. I won't tell anyone. "Go on, you, rock his world."

"Thank you, Warden. You're a real peach." With a wink and a smile, he disappears inside. Better stay here, to make sure he actually does as he's told. I'm not a peeping Tom, I swear. Faint murmur: "Zev? Wake up, baby."

Sleepy groan. "Hmm? Oh, it's you." The elf harrumphs, clearly not sleepy anymore. "Why are-... Mmmph!" Is that the sound of kissing I hear? Heh.

"I'm sorry," Virgil whispers ruefully. "I promise I won't treat you like a pet anymore. Please, don't be angry with me."

For a moment, there is only silence. Until it is broken by a gasp, and a very familiar voice says: "Yes, I think I can forgive you..." Rustling noises, words of regret and forgiveness. Moaning. Sexy, sexy moaning. Oh, yes. That sounds good. Would it be too intrusive if I just zipped in there and tried to join them? Yes, probably. Let's leave those two alone.

Ah... All is well with the world again. I do good work, if I may say so myself. Ugh, Maker's breath, am I ever sick of all this travelling. Two more days to go; only one if we're lucky. I just want to be done with this, you know. I want the archdemon dead, the darkspawn gone, and Collin with me. I'll hold him, and pet him, and feed him, and love him forever. I'll spoil that little boy completely rotten. Actually no, I won't, but spoiling him a tiny bit every now and then won't hurt. Feh. Stupid Blight. Well, time to go to bed. If I want to find Zev's tent, all I have to do is follow the scent of cinnamon cookies.


	181. The Road to Denerim - Hunter's Stew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wardens are teased by some of their companions. They eat a good, hearty meal that evening. Yeah, I didn't know what to call this chapter either.

### The Road to Denerim - Hunter's Stew

So this spell supposedly brings people back from the brink of death. I'm not sure what qualifies as the brink. Not entirely dead? Only just dead? What? Honestly, I hope I don't have to find out. This is a lot different from reading about some nobleman who can't keep it in his fancy pants. Less fun, more useful.

"How vile," Wynne mutters beside me. "You could have warned me about this ending, young lady."

"And miss the look on your face? Never." The horror, the disgust. Oh no. Muahaha. "Rather anticlimactic, isn't it?"

The old lady rolls her eyes. "I'll say."

Across from me, a very sad-looking Grey Warden is looking out of the window. Almost everyone else seems to have recovered from the attack a few days ago, even the arl. Not that I get to see much of the man, what with the way he has his own extra fancy carriage, and all. I tap our possible future king on the knee. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he replies mechanically. "Really."

"Now why don't I believe that?" It could be the dullness in his eyes, his miserable expression. Maybe it's the way his shoulders slump. It might even be all of the above. "You know I'm here for you, if you want to talk."

Al shrugs. "Yes, but I prefer to speak in private. Come stay with me tonight." Wow. I'm not sure if saying that here was the best idea ever.

"Oooooh!" Leliana giggles and breaks into a song: "Alistair and Astoreth, sitting in a tree..."

"Indeed, I too have noticed the sexual tension between the Grey Wardens," Morrigan coos, rudely cutting off the redhead's singing. "Has she finally made a man out of you, Alistair?" Oh, yes, I have. It was wonderful, thank you.

He shows her a rather rude gesture. "Sod off, witch."

"My, my, the old Alistair would never have done that." Morrigan smirks, eyes flashing. "Have I hit the mark? Getting all bold, because you are no longer a-..."

"While I strongly disagree with your behaviour..." Wynne glares unmercifully at the poor boy. "I must agree that they should leave you alone. Come, come, girls, you know our Wardens are only close friends." She's buying it! Technically it's true that we're friends, though. Whew. Safe for now.

"Yeah! What she said!" I can't help but add. "We agreed to be best friends forever, didn't we?"

Alistair comes up with some sort of smile that isn't entirely convincing. Too smirky. "Totally. Best friends forever, Aster."

The senior enchantress smiles in endearment; the witch and the bard look at one another, then at each of us in turn. "A damnable lie!" proclaims Morrigan dramatically.

Leliana apparently decides to add a little extra: "An egregious prevarication!"

I shake my head. "You two are so full of it. Now just shut up, would you?" The teasing goes on. Humph. My colleague grins sheepishly, mouthing an apology. Yes, that's right. I blame you. Fear my glare. Fear it. Ha, there we go.

~*|'-'|*~

"You are something else, you know that?" Our cook for tonight sits himself beside me. His food always tastes more... _exotic_ than when other people make it. It's delicious, at any rate. "All the exercise I got last night was no doubt your doing," Zevran chuckles. He idly stirs in his bowl. Someone looks very pleased.

"Aw, busted." This is my sixth helping already. Normally I'd be sated with only four, but I can't resist this. "What do you call this, and what do you put in it?"

Politely he finishes the spoonful he just took, before answering. "This? We call it _coniglio alla cacciatora_. I can give you a recipe, if you like."

"That would be marvellous, thanks." The others have enjoyed this Antivan thing so much; I'm pretty sure I saw Oghren lick his bowl clean. Usually the only one to do that is Stubbs. Even Sten seemed to like it. I need to make this dish too. "What does that name mean?"

"Rabbit, the hunter's way. Very simple, but very tasty." Zev quickly shovels a few more spoonfuls down his mouth. Chew, chew, chew. He looks like a squirrel with its cheeks stuffed. Aw, how adorable... "I should thank you, _cucciola mia_. For threatening Virgil into seeking my forgiveness, I mean." For a moment he closes his eyes in that cat-like way of his. "I cannot remember the last time a-..."

"Hey, Zev, you should really cook more often!" Alistair joins us, sitting on my other side. "This is some brilliant grub."

"I am glad you like it." Zevran smiles at the newcomer, without even a hint of the usual lust in his gaze. Wow. "Soon your fellow Warden too will have the recipe, so I will not be the only one cooking it, I'm sure."

Al gently nudges his elbow to my side. "Oh, that would be great. You're a fine cook too, Aster." The boy pretty much inhales his (eighth, I think) bowlful. "Ah, that was delicious. Goodnight, my friends!" A friendly peck on my cheek. "See you later," he whispers in my ear. Well, I guess he perked up a little. Maybe he was just hungry earlier.

"Where is my kiss goodnight, hm?" And there is the Zevran we all know and love. "Don't I get one?"

"Maybe when pigs fly." Al grins, patting the Crow on the shoulder. "But I'm not making any promises. Goodnight."

Zev laughingly shakes his head. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained. No matter; I have my own blond god for now."

"Ooh, so is this serious? Should I ask Leliana to bring out her lute and sing you two a love song?"

"Serious? Is this a joke?" He chuckles and licks some stray stew from his fingers. Sexy. "I am having a marvellous time, but I do not intend to truly surrender myself to him."

Poor Virgil. "You don't even realize the effect you have on him, do you? Yesterday, he made it quite clear that his feelings for you go way beyond a hot and steamy bedroom. Or tent. Or, whatever. You get the idea."

"Really?" Suddenly he looks bewildered. "Sweet mother of mercy, I thought that was only pillow talk." He stares at his feet. "It would not do for me to break his heart. Virgil is a good man, but I am simply unable to bind myself to anyone." He briefly looks up. "You know, because following you around is not exactly without risk, and I could be killed any moment."

Pff, bullshit. That's not the entire reason. It's probably fear of commitment, combined with still wanting to fuck around with whomever he pleases. Fear of monogamy. "Well hey, you don't have to follow me around, you know. Haven't I mentioned you're free to come and go as you please?" Apart from not having him in my bed anymore, I suppose I wouldn't miss him very badly. Ever since we began undertaking missions in small groups, Zevran has only ever come with us to Ostagar. That's it. And I had him retrieve Sten's sword, that too.

"No, you have not, but I would not trade this life of adventure for anything else." Fondly he pats me on the knee. "I will miss it when this is all over."

"I certainly won't. Some peace and quiet would be nice, I think." Sitting by a roaring fire with a nice book in my lap, Stubbs sleeping at my feet, Collin all peaceful in his crib. A real crib, not some glorified box for potatoes. It sounds good. Really good. "I should head off to bed. Goodnight, Zev."

He grabs a hold of my arm. "You are going to kiss me goodnight, aren't you?"

"Ser, I am appalled! Of course I am." I hug him, pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth. "Sweet dreams. Be gentle to your new friend, okay?" Wow, do I sound like a mother.

"What should I say? Should I just be truthful?" The elf blows a stray wisp of hair from his forehead, an expression of frustration on his face. "See, I would not have cared before. You are ruining me."

"Well, there goes my dastardly plan of turning you into a fine, upstanding citizen! Thanks for nothing." Getting up, I wave my arms around all dramatically and stuff. "All the advice I can give you, is to be honest, but tactful. Please don't start acting like a cold bitch to alienate him from you." Poor little Connor; I can't stand to see children sad. Stupid Isolde. "I'm sure you will handle it brilliantly."

Zevran pulls his face into a crestfallen expression. "Yes, yes, you go and have your pleasant dreams while I sweat over this conundrum. Goodnight, _fiammina_." He waves at me, looking very pitiful. Wouldn't want to be in his shoes, let me tell you. Oh, well... They will both live, I'm sure.

"Remember what I said: honesty and tact. Night, night."


	182. The Road to Denerim - Why Change?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who needs a nightgown when you can share a bedroll with a hottie?

### The Road to Denerim - Why Change?

Change, then sneak into Alistair's tent? Is there any need? Not really. Might as well eliminate the need to go traipsing through the cold in my sleepwear. Snuggled up to him, I'm not even sure I will need my nightgown. Heh. "Good evening, sweet prince, how are you?"

Al pokes his head out of his bedroll. "Meh. I've been better." He keenly watches me divest myself of my rather constricting garments. "Where is your nightie?" he asks, turning up the covers so I may join him.

"Not here." And indeed, I don't need it. "So tell me, what's wrong?" Mmm, I could stay with him every night.

"Uhm... I'm sorry, your breasts are distracting me." Blushing an attractive shade of red, he chuckles awkwardly. "It's just that the Landsmeet is coming closer. I still don't want to be king, but I don't want to disappoint anyone either." His expression hardens. "And I definitely do not want Loghain on that throne." There is an intensely grim look of determination in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you." I run my fingers across his stomach, tracing those gloriously defined abdominal muscles of his. "This is something you have to decide for yourself. Don't want to be king? Then don't be king. You're a big boy now, you get to make your own decisions."

The Warden sighs. "I know, but there's so much pressure! Ah, damn it, I wish Maric had just kept it in his pants around my mother." Idly he strokes my arm. "Would you be disappointed if I didn't do it?"

"Me? Why would I be? Because I won't get to brag about having friends in high places?" I shrug. "I... You mean the world to me, and I wouldn't think more or less of you if you were to put on some fancy crown." It's a marvel every time I kiss him, how pleasant it feels. "You have to do what _you_ want. Don't let anybody guilt you into doing something that would make you miserable."

"Thank you. I'm starting to believe I actually have a choice in all this." Scooping me up in his arms, Al gives me a tight hug. "You mean the world to me too, Aster." Suddenly I feel his hand very, very low on my back. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. "Maker, you smell nice. And you're all soft and cuddly..." With a great big happy grin, he cups my face and keeps me a small distance away from him. "Look at you, you're so cute."

I love compliments, but they rarely fail to make me blush. Seeing him like this, though, is heating my cheeks with more than only embarrassment. "You, good ser, are ridiculously handsome." Now it's his turn to blush. "I might go so far as to say that you're beautiful. You know, I could just lie here and look at you for hours and hours on end." No exaggeration.

"Oh, really?" His happy expression becomes infused with a hint of cheeky. "Why just look, when you can touch?" Rough fingers caress my spine, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.

"I like how you think, handsome." Our lips meet, then our tongues, and before long, we're tangled together so badly I hardly know if this arm belongs to me, or if that leg is part of him.

Between kisses, Al murmurs: "I'm more than just a pretty face, kitty." He proves it by sliding his hand down my panties and finding my most sensitive place right away; I moan into his mouth and dig my nails into his skin. "You're so wet. Can I taste you again?" Those lovely eyes are burning with lust.

"Why, of course. Do you mind if I try something with you, though?" Ah, Zevran. I am forever in your debt.

"No, not at all." He gasps when I plant my knees on either side of his head. "Oh, wow, that is a brilliant idea." Forthwith he tears my knickers right off my ass and buries his face between my legs. Oh, goodness. First he was just randomly moving his tongue all about the place, but now... As his pace and pressure picks up more and more, I lose my rhythm and only bob my head up and down erratically and shakily. It doesn't seem to bother Alistair, though. Panting, he briefly breaks away from me. "Mmm, you really know what to do with your tongue." His words come out in a low purr. "Lady, you are amazing. You..." Whatever else he might have wanted to say is lost in a whirlwind of happy-sounding mewls and moans. The bitter, salty taste of seed fills my mouth, thick drops trickling onto my tongue. And yet he doesn't let up with his licking. He is already relaxing and softening as I climax. I moan into his cock, making him giggle. "Stop that."

There is only thing I want at the moment. "Stop? Who's going to stop me, you?" I straddle his hips, grab a firm hold of him. Only half-hard, but I'll get him there. I grab his hand and place it on my breast. "I need you in me so badly, Alistair, please?"

"Wow, you are _eager_." Apparently knowing that is enough to help him along. "Jowan wasn't lying about you." He chews his lip, looking away in shame. "Uh oh."

"Don't worry, I know about that." I run the tip of him through my wet slit, and find that it wants to slip into me all on its own. Looks like I'm not the only one who's eager. "Oghren went to the Circle, and Jowan gave him a letter for me." Ever so slowly, struggling not to go too quickly, I impale myself on his magnificent cock. "How do you enjoy being in his place?"

His muscles tighten; a tide of lust washes over his face. "Sweet Andraste, I'm having the time of my life." He groans loudly. "S-so you're not angry?"

"Silly." My behind is resting on his upper legs; he is fully buried inside of me. My, how wonderfully fulfilling. "That's ridiculous. You know I wanted to fuck you, right? That I wanted to suck your cock and taste your seed on my tongue?" Once, I rock my hips. The man groans as if I'm hurting him, twitching like mad. I forget this is only his second time.

"No, no dirty talk, please," the Warden whimpers weakly. "It's still too much for me. You..." Long-drawn moan. "You're so good at this. I'm so happy right now..." Mewling like a puppy, he kneads my breasts with obvious joy. How sweet...

I rock back and forth as little as I can, making only the slightest of movements. Nevertheless, the throbbing I feel deep inside of me grows stronger and stronger. "Are you all right, angel?" Look at that poor boy's face. "Don't die on me now."

"I've never been better," he rasps, before suddenly pulling me down on him and kissing me fiercely. Oh... I like. Arms wrapped tightly around my body, he prevents me from moving. Not that I mind a single tiny bit. Instead he thrusts into me himself, as if he's already done it a thousand times. Perhaps, in his mind and dreams at least, he has. Such enthusiasm. Amazing. I've never felt anything like this; Alistair is fucking me like this is his last time. Still throbbing, still not coming. It would seem that the control the Chantry taught him serves more sordid purposes too. Haha, how perfect. Pressure builds up in my gut with every thrust, pressure so strong and concentrated it almost hurts. Am I coming? Oh, fuck yes, I think I am. Hot liquid gushes out of me as I scream into my lover's mouth. My head is woolly; all I can feel is the pleasure raging through my cunt and underbelly. "What's going on?" Al asks, hastily detaching his mouth from mine, his thrusts slowing. "There's this stuff coming out of you, what...?"

"I'm coming, baby, please don't stop, please don't stop, please don't stop…" I keep repeating those words until a proudly grinning Warden covers my mouth with his own. It's all one unending orgasm while he continues pounding into me, hard and reckless.

For a time his tongue explores my mouth with the same enthusiasm, until he breaks our kiss and bites down into my shoulder. I can't feel a thing. "You're squeezing me so tightly." His breathless words are muffled against my collarbone. "It... You feel amazing." With a few subdued moans, he holds me closer. "I'm going to join you, okay?" Al stays perfectly still as he digs his fingers into my hips and growls. Slowly my own peak subsides; I can't even raise my head and look at his face. Could I be any more of a spoiled little princess? "Good grief, Aster." With a content sigh, he presses a kiss to my forehead. "That was even better than last time."

"It was. You're amazing." Never mind the wetness; I think I can just lie here and be content for a while. "Seriously amazing."

"Aw, thanks. I had no idea girls could squirt too." He shrugs. "Then again, I don't know much about all this. Sex is awesome."

_Sex is awesome._ Hee, that's so cute. "It is, isn't it? I'm sorry, I suppose we should have just done this much earlier." I would've loved to have been the filling between an Alistair and Jowan sandwich. That's got to be the best sandwich ever.

"Ah, it's my own fault, I should have been quicker." He grins wickedly. "I only brought that templar to you, because I wanted to be sure you were available. And because I wanted to smack him on the head for hurting you."

"You are the sweetest guy I've ever met, Alistair, really." I gush over him, as he deserves. "Nobody has ever done anything like that for me. Thank you."

He quirks one corner of his mouth. "You're welcome, kitty. And I'm glad you're not angry at me for... You know, that stuff with Jowan." Clicking his tongue, Al cradles me to his chest. "Thinking of him must make you sad."

"A little, I guess." It still stings. Not too badly, but I can feel it. "He didn't have to leave me."

"I know, I tried to persuade him to stay." He hugs me tighter. "I'm sorry. He said he would feel better leaving you behind if he knew I would be there to care for you."

Hearing that somehow gets me all weak in the knees. "It makes me feel better too, you know."

"Aw, that makes me very happy." Alistair kisses me again, as sweetly as can be. All feelings of lust that I thought had flowed from me earlier, come pouring back in. "Mmm..." His eyes are half-lidded when he releases me. His renewed hard-on is digging into my stomach. "Are you suddenly aroused again too?"

"Yes, very much so." Our eyes lock, and long story short, we end up hungrily kissing each other, groping, grabbing, rolling about, wrestling to be on top. My colleague, being stronger and heavier than I am, naturally wins. He slides into me and makes me gasp for air. The hard ground is going to be very uncomfortable to my back in the long run, I'm sure. "You know, I can't wait until we get to Denerim," I manage to say between subdued moans. "A real bed would be great right now..."

Above me, this wonderful man shows another dazzling smile, never letting up with the pumping motions of his hips. "Why? A bedroll not good enough for you, my lady?"

I return his grin with equal amusement. "A bedroll is just fine for me, Your Majesty, it's just that I've never had the opportunity to break a bed before." His cock hitting me particularly deeply has me biting my lip to keep quiet. "And you know we're going to do just that."

"Is that so?" Alistair raises his eyebrow in that typical expression of his, and chuckles. Very, very sexily. "Let's kick things off by wearing a hole in the ground right here," he murmurs, before stealing my breath away with a passionate kiss.

Luckiest girl in the world, me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes this part of the Wardens' adventures. Tune in at a later unspecified date for more (or it might already be up by the time you read this).


	183. Painting Denerim Red - Brrrr...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Landsmeet hasn't even started and Astoreth is scared shitless already.

### Painting Denerim Red - Brrrr...

"For the moment, the advantage is ours," Arl Eamon explains as he guides us into his estate. "Loghain will have little choice but to oppose us directly." Alistair and I both nod understandingly at his words, but I'm sure that his thoughts are elsewhere. Just like mine. Landsmeet, Schmandsmeet, I just want to get to a room and have a good night's sleep. After some choice lovemaking, of course. But with whom? Hee... "He will strike back at us, but how soon?" Oh, dear. Visitors. My heart sinks, and the arl seems taken aback as well. His eyes widen visibly. "Loghain. This is... an honour, that the regent himself would find time to greet me personally."

The regent is wearing his typically dour expression, an imposing figure in his silverite armour. Even with everything - the dead Wardens, our dead king and all the assassins he has sent after us - I can't really bring myself to hate him. The Blight is what we must focus on. Mainly, that is; it won't do to forget about everything else. "How could I not welcome a man so important as to call every lord in Ferelden away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land?" the man says, a purposeful undertone of sarcasm to his voice.

"The Blight is why I'm here." Eamon has regained his calm. "With Cailan dead, Ferelden _must_ have a king to lead it against the darkspawn." From the corner of my eye, I can see my fellow Warden cringing. Poor thing, all this pressure. I hope it won't make him crack. His hand blindly fumbles for mine, holding it in a firm grip.

"Ferelden _has_ a strong leader: its queen," Loghain remonstrates, his eyes narrowed. "And I lead her armies." If things had happened differently, I would have had faith in that. I know enough of history; Loghain Mac Tir was instrumental in conquering the country back from the Orlesians. But the darkspawn are no ordinary opponent. The steely blue eyes of the once trusted general dismiss Arl Eamon and fix on me instead. I am literally shaking in my boots under his gaze. "Hm, the Grey Warden recruit." The other Grey Warden is completely ignored. "You have my sympathies on what happened to your order. It is unfortunate they chose to turn against Ferelden."

While Alistair turns red as a beetroot with barely suppressed rage and nearly squeezes my poor little hand into a pulp, I reply: "Oh, don't you give me that nonsense. When are we going to start this damned Landsmeet?"

"Don't interrupt, churl," the previously quiet woman at the regent's side says, right out of the damned blue. "Your betters are talking." I don't think I've ever been spoken to before with such arrogance. Dislike at first sight.

"Relax, lady, your master was obviously pausing for me to say something." I grit my teeth. "Truly, regent Loghain, you ought to train your dogs better. Mine at least knows how to behave properly." Stubbs gives a delighted little wuff at my affectionate pat on his head. Good boy.

The woman's hand flies to the hilt of her large sword, her face contorting with anger. "Why, _you_ -..." Like a good dog, she stands down when Loghain tells her to. The grey-haired older gent at his other side says nothing; he just looks at the both of us and grins. Man, he's creepy. And not exactly an oil painting. His face sends cold shivers down my spine. He looks worse than that guy who got his face burned with his first Fireball. Screaming, skin melting. I don't even want to imagine the pain.

This Cauthrien woman keeps sending me deadly looks during the further exchange of veiled threats between Arl Eamon and Teyrn Loghain. Maybe calling her a dog went a bit far, but she was out of line too. And here we have yet more talk of Alistair taking the throne and leading the country into victory against our good friends, the darkspawn. "Oh, is that all I have to do?" jokes the boy with his mouth forced into a strained smile. "No pressure..." There is plenty of pressure on my hand though, let me tell you. Ow. It's Goldanna all over again.

Loghain moves a step closer to Eamon, all commanding presence and hard stare. "The emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring him down." So... Scary... I would probably wet myself if I were in the arl's shoes. "Expect no more mercy than I showed him. There is nothing I would not do for my homeland." With that, the regent and his companions turn on their heels and leave. That was frightening, to say the least. I can't help but wonder what that man would do, if he got his hands on us. It can't be anything pleasant. Pain comes to mind.

"Oh, dear." The arl releases a long breath. "That was certainly bracing. I didn't expect him to show himself quite so soon. To think that a man such as Loghain would do this..." Sadly shaking his head, the old man rubs his chin. "In any case, we must find the roots of all his schemes here in the city and turn them to our advantage." He shows Alistair and me a reserved smile. "Go have a look around, maybe even find the nobles who have arrived for the Landsmeet. See how many will support us. In the meantime, however, I believe you all deserve a rest." Upon a few snaps of his fingers, a pretty, dark-haired elven girl appears. "Nigella will show you to your rooms. Alistair, let us speak in my sitting room."

"Yes, Arl Eamon," my fellow Warden mumbles obediently. Releasing my hand, he says: "I'll come find you later, all right?" I nod and watch the two men walk off. It's not difficult to figure out what they will be discussing.

Nigella curtsies politely. Her smile is to die for. "Welcome, dear guests. Please follow me..."


	184. Painting Denerim Red - Girl Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana joins our heroine in the tub.

### Painting Denerim Red - Girl Talk

Ah, now this is better. After that Loghain-related scare, I really needed a good, long soak in a hot bath. I'm surprised nobody else has opted to do this; there is plenty of room for a whole host of bathers in here. Although I'm not sure if I would want to share this tub with, let's say, Oghren. Ah, well. If it stays this way, I won't need to. This estate is huge. Wow. I'm not entirely sure whether to be happy or sad, because we can't get the Landsmeet over and done with yet, but at least we get to relax for now. Some kind of lead will no doubt turn up all on its own (things have a way of happening like that), so I myself am not too worried. How could I be? Bubbles, bubbles. You don't get that in the wilderness.

"Ah, here you are," an accented voice twitters excitedly. "Tonight is the night!" Leliana slips out of her towel and into the water. "Mmm, finally I am able to indulge in a hot bath." She sighs, eyes closed. It occurs to me that I had never seen her naked before. Not that I really have now; she was really quick and I wasn't really paying attention. But from what I managed to catch... Lovely. Nicely curved, not too thin. Those luscious lips of hers are still her crowning feature though, if you ask me. Draw the eye, they do. "Is there anything in particular you would like to shop for, my friend?"

I shrug. "I don't know. A cloak, I guess. It gets cold." That is really all I want. That, and a good time.

"Ever the practical one!" The bard lets out an attractive laugh. "Surely you want to try on a pair of high-heeled shoes, or find yourself a pretty piece of jewellery?" Idly unravelling the little braid in her hair, Leliana looks at me with expectancy in her eyes.

I hadn't thought of that. "Aren't those shoes really difficult to walk in?"

"Yes, but they are not really meant for walking long distances." Smiling impishly, she continues: "High heels change your gait, make you sway your hips to and fro, to maintain your balance. And that, as they say, brings the boys to the courtyard." For a moment Leliana vanishes under the sudsy water, to emerge with her short red locks plastered to her head. "I myself am dying to buy a frock and matching shoes for when we celebrate the archdemon's demise." Her pretty face takes on a dreamy expression. "Ah, I shall write ballads of our mighty Grey Wardens, stemming the tide of battle, crushing the darkspawn under their heel, mage and warrior, standing together, unified."

"And what of our intrepid comrades?" You would think that Alistair and I were doing everything by ourselves. "We would be nowhere without all of you, Leliana."

A blush colours her cheeks red. "You are too kind. Then I shall also sing of our companions, brave and dedicated." Giggle. "The big, tough Qunari, who secretly has a soft spot for cookies and kittens!"

Ha! It's funny, because it's true. "Shall I let you in on a little secret?"

"Hmmm..." She smiles in a conspiratorial manner. "Yes, please do."

"The other day, when Oghren returned from his quest for booty, it turned out that he'd also gone to the Circle to speak with Jowan." I shake my head. "Nosy little rascal wanted to see a Tranquil for himself. Anyway, Jowan gave him a letter for me, I read it, and I got so sad, I couldn't hold back my tears." Leliana clicks her tongue and lays her hand on my arm. "Thank you. Sten found me, and, get this... Guess what he did?"

"Logically speaking, I would say that he lectured you about controlling your emotions." Her features tighten into a serious expression as she mimics the Qunari's voice: " _Kadan_ , you are a grown woman. Crying is for children! You must keep yourself together!"

This warrants a bit of applause. "Nice, Leliana, that was good!" I laugh at het exaggerated bow. "But no, he didn't. He just cradled me in his arms and told me that everything was going to be all right."

"You know, if I had not seen for myself how he plays with Schmooples when he thinks I'm not looking, I would not have believed you." The bard's voluptuous lips stretch into a fond smile. "He must really like you, for him to show you his tender side." A hint of naughtiness creeps into her smile. "Speaking of tender sides, has Morrigan gotten her wish yet? To bed Sten?"

"Unless she has finally managed to seduce him in the past three days, then no." I wonder how serious Morrigan is about it. What if Sten were to suddenly barge into her tent or room and have his way with her? Hm. That might be interesting. I can hear the witch moaning already. Great, now I'm fantasizing about other people doing it. "Why, are you also curious as to how Qunari do the deed?"

Leliana chuckles. "Of course. I know nothing of it and I am very curious by nature." She looks at her hands in disdain. "This is enough soaking for me, I am beginning to resemble a wrinkled prune fruit." Leisurely she climbs out of the tub and begins towelling herself off. Now we have a nice view. Endless legs, round hips that taper into a little waist, breasts that make me want to bury my face between them... I would love to trace all of her scars with my tongue. My naughty thoughts about other women have become more open lately. So what if I'm like this? Big deal. I'm not hurting anybody with my sexual preferences, or lack thereof. Promiscuity and magical talent go hand in hand, don't you know. "Remember to moisturise your skin well after this, Astoreth," the Orlesian beauty advises. "You might turn into leather, if you forego it. Are we going out after dinner?" Her eyes are sparkling with anticipation.

"Yes, after dinner is a good time to go. See you then." Oh, wow. _Someone_ doesn't need to wear high heels to sway her hips all sexy-like. Mmm, nice. Incidentally, I wonder what's for dinner. I'm looking forward to dessert; it's been a while since I tasted something really sweet. And that brings me back to Leliana. What would she taste like? Ooh, what would Morrigan taste like? They both look really yummy. I doubt anything erotic will ever come to pass between us, but hope springs eternal. Expanding the old horizon is a very good thing to do. Here are the wrinkles. That means I should get out of here. Good. I'm calm, collected and ready to have a good time with the girls. First I need to get to my room and get dressed though. Glad my room isn't very far from here; I'm just one small towel away from butt-ass-naked.

Look who we have here. "Why, hello, Warden." Zevran, out of his armour and with a towel slung over his shoulder, looks me up and down. "Are you done with your bath?" He sighs. "Such a shame."

"Hi Zev." This brings back memories. It seems ages ago, that I'd exited the washroom of Castle Redcliffe and run into him. This time, his lustful stares don't bother me in the least. "Had I known you'd be joining me, I would have waited."

"It was not meant to be…" The assassin steps closer to me, smiling mischievously. "Do you remember that night I caught you after your bath, so long ago? You were very cruel to me then." His body is so close to mine that I can feel his warmth. "I am pleased that you have revised your opinion of me, _fiammina_." Softly Zevran brushes his lips against mine. "Very pleased."

Is it hot in here, or is it just me? "As am I, my friend. It's much better when we all get along." Just for show, I swat at the hand that creeps behind the folds of my towel. "You are so cheeky."

"Yes, and you love me for it." His tongue slips into my mouth, his trim body pushes my back against the wall. The knot in my towel comes undone; the only thing protecting me from exposure, is good old Zev. This is so bad. Heh. The good kind of bad. Just like the time Cullen picked me up to see Irving about my Harrowing. The thought of that makes me smile. As does the eager hand that slips between my thighs. "You like public places, don't you?" the elf whispers into my ear, coating his fingers in my wetness. Without warning of any kind, he spins me around. "I know what else you like."

"Mmm, Zevran, you spoil me." My back arches as he slides his hard cock into me, his pliant lips pressing little kisses to the back of my shoulder. I am enjoying myself silly here, but I won't allow myself to stop listening for footsteps. The thought of getting caught is sexy, actually getting caught probably is not. When did I ever get this practical?

The former Crow grabs himself two handfuls of breast. "Only because you deserve it, my dear." With his thumbs and forefingers plying my nipples, he fucks me at a fast pace. "And because I enjoy you so." One hand abandons my chest to play with my clit. It jumps against his skilful fingers. Wet sopping noises sound whenever he pounds into me, the pleasure of an impending climax pooling deep in my stomach.

But then… "Hey, do you hear that?" Someone is humming a cheerful tune. Someone who is coming this way. "Shit!"

Under an array of curses, Zev quickly makes himself decent and ties my towel for me at the same time. "How rude of them to disturb us." Smiling ruefully, he pinches my cheek. "I apologize for the frustration, _fiammina_." We exchange a brief hug. "I should go and do what I came here for, before somebody becomes suspicious."

"All right, see you at dinner."

"Until then." He winks and ambles into the washroom at his leisure. There is something about this secret affair that I really enjoy. His amazing skill in the bedroom and his sweet words are wonderful, but the secrecy is really the icing on this deliciously naughty cake. Ugh, this is frustrating. I was so close to coming too… Shame, shame. I will probably have to take care of myself. Unless somebody else is willing. We shall see.


	185. Painting Denerim Red - Hide and Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth hides a refugee in her chambers.

### Painting Denerim Red - Hide and Seek

This room is lovely and spacious. My bed is so very, very comfortable. Just like my new bed at the tower once was. Sometimes I miss that place; usually I don't, though. Ah, the good life! I could get used to lounging around like this, not being wrapped tightly by corsets and all that. No minor headache from having my hair tied back so tightly. All I need now, is Collin. That would make this perfect, as opposed to just bloody good. And feeding him might ease the heaviness in my chest. I do feel glad that it is less heavy than before. Seems like I am running out of milk. What's all this ruckus down the hallway? Well, that'll teach me to think I would be enjoying a bit of peace and quiet for a change.

"I can't take this anymore!" His face indignant and angry, Alistair closes my door behind him and leans his back against it. "Arl Eamon won't shut up about me taking the throne, hide me!" Right. His dear uncle is truly relentless, isn't he?

Only a few moments later, a loud knock rattles the door. "Pardon me, Warden, but have you seen Alistair?" the offending nobleman speaks outside. "He just ran off, right in the middle of our talk."

"I'm sorry, my lord, I haven't." My reply pleases my fellow Warden greatly, judging by the way he animatedly mouths his thanks. "Try the kitchen; you know how he loves his cheese."

"Ah yes, thank you." His footsteps echo down the hall.

Al gives me a great big hug. "Thanks a million, I thought I'd never be rid of him." Shooing me out of the way, he immediately settles on my bed, his back against the many pillows. "Humph. First I have to endure those fucking indignities from Loghain about the Wardens turning on Ferelden," he spits angrily. "And now this crap from Arl Eamon. Let me tell you, it's like talking to a bloody trampoline: the same arguments over and over and over again!" Alistair folds his arms before his chest and stares into empty space. His brows are almost forming a unified, furrowed mass. "Queen Anora has been doing a great job so far, I say let _her_ stay on the throne."

My poor darling. He already has enough to worry about without being King Maric's illegitimate offspring. I straddle the boy's lap. "Come here, you. Try not to think about all that for a little while." Pulling him close, I let him rest his head against my chest. Slowly but surely, the tension in his body lessens.

"Your heartbeat is very soothing," the Warden muses. "I could just fall asleep listening to it." Maybe that would be for the best, so I opt to keep my mouth shut. Stroking his back and running my fingers through his hair. I could keep this up forever. Al abruptly looks up, smiling shyly. "Hey, Aster?"

"What is it, sweetie?"

A blush spreads across his face. "I like it when you call me that. But I wanted to say: thank you for always being there for me. No matter what I need." A deep, despondent sigh exits his throat. "And thank you for keeping your cool in there with Loghain, because I was just about to clock that... that traitorous son of a whore." He grunts in frustration. "That was mean, his mother can't help it." Once more he blows out an aggravated breath. "Damn that traitor."

"I'm glad you have such excellent control of yourself; I don't think breaking Loghain's jaw would have helped us much." I chuckle at the mental image. It would have been pretty amusing though.

"It's because of you." Alistair smiles up at me, affection in his eyes. "You are my focus. I..." He falls silent. "I just, well..." Awkward cough. "Thank you."

I kiss him on the lips. Mmm, a man this gorgeous could bring the coldest woman to her knees. Let alone a lusty individual like myself. "You're very welcome. And I should thank you as well." A bit more of the mushy stuff, before we move on to other things. "You could have easily discarded me as some cheap slut after I'd told you I was pregnant, but you didn't." _I will do anything I can to protect you and your baby._ Nobody else in our merry band is as close or dear to me. "You have always stood by me, and I will always stand by you."

"No matter what?" The look of boyish hopefulness on his face is so endearing, it brings tears to the corners of my eyes. "Promise?"

"Yes, no matter what, I promise." We fold each other in a warm, tight embrace. "I will stay with you, until you tell me to go away." If that ever happens, it will be a sad day indeed.

The Warden chuckles into my skin, his breath tickling. "You're not going anywhere." His arms wrap tighter around me. "I will keep you with me forever and ever, because you are my bestest friend in the whole wide world." And so we engage in the most fun you can have with your clothes on: cuddling. It may not be what I was after, but I adore it anyway. The next best thing. "This is fun," he sighs in a dreamy voice. "I've never had anyone like you."

"No? Nobody to have slumber parties with?" Oh, maybe our girls' night out should end like that. It's the perfect finale. "Not even a doll, or something, to hug at night?"

Al shakes his head. "No, nothing of the sort. But now I have you to make up for all the nights I've spent all by my lonesome self." Absently he twirls a lock of my hair around his finger. "Sorry, I'm being so terrible."

"Huh, what are you talking about?" Yes, hugging me is a terrible thing. Stop it, this instance. Right.

Batting his eyelashes, the silly guy sends me a remorseful look. "I haven't even told you how pretty you look."

"Aw, that's sweet, but you really don't have to." And there goes my blood, right to my face.

"It's what gentlemen do, don't you know?" Head tilted to the side, he looks me up and down. "Jowan was right; you should wear your hair down more often. And that blue, very nice," he says, indicating the shirt I'm wearing. Zevran's shirt. The redness that was already on my cheeks deepens a bit.

I nod and slip my hands under his thin tunic, through which his frame shows so beautifully. "Thanks, handsome, I'll keep that in mind." His skin is warm against my hands. "I'm sorry about this whole king business, though. Why does the arl insist on you, can't he do it himself?" I run my hands along his chest, slowly. Might as well give him a bit of a massage; he looks like he could use it. Tentatively I set to undoing the slight tension in his muscles.

"Ugh, I don't know." Alistair shrugs. "He says that it might seem opportunistic if he or Teagan made a bid for the throne, even though Arl Eamon's _beard_ would do a better job. Oh yeah, right there." He buries his face in the crook of my neck, and moans. "That feels _so_ good, wow."

"Good, you deserve to wind down a bit." Ah, that Daniela. Without her, I would have no idea how to give a proper massage. Or how to kiss Cullen that first time. Perhaps I should thank her for that. My life turned out quite well, didn't it? Adventure, friendship and all the sex I could ever wish for. And when I get back, my very own precious little sprout. The nightmares and shortened lifespan really aren't that bad. Sweet ass of Andraste, but he smells delicious. "Have I ever told you that you smell absolutely terrific?" Deeply I inhale his scent. "Mmm..."

The boy chuckles. "I like where this is going."

Something hard is pressing against my belly. "Do you, now?" The left corner of my mouth turns up in a smirk. A splendid idea has hatched in my brain. I quickly undo the laces on his trousers and bare his impressive organ. No matter how many times I see or feel it, the size of this honking big thing remains a marvel. I love it so. "Think you can handle some dirty talk now, big boy?" I purr, closing my fingers around him and squeezing softly.

"I don't know." A low gasp tumbles from his lips; his hard flesh pulses in my hand. "Probably not," he groans, "seeing how only this is driving me insane already."

My fingertips run along his velvety shaft, a touch almost lighter than air. "Then, how about I just casually tell you what I am going to do with you?"

Biting his lower lip, my handsome companion slips my shirt down my shoulders. "I-I guess that could be..." Long-drawn moan. "A disaster." Shakily he pulls the blue silk even farther down; his eyes briefly grow wide. "Dear Maker, you're not wearing anything under here?"

"For your convenience, my sweet prince." Or, you know, because I'm lazy. I run the tip of my tongue along his ear, fingers still massaging. So sensitive. So adorable. How could I resist? Thankfully, I don't have to. Neither does he. Alistair's coarse, yet tender fingers glide down my sides, then down my back. "That's right, no need to be shy…" As he roughly grabs my behind, I moan into his ear, the shell hot against my lips. My hand tightens around his rock-hard erection. Methinks the time for dirty talk has arrived. As seductively as possible, I coo: "I'm going to take this gorgeous cock of yours and slide it into my hot, wet-…"

"Stop that, crazy minx," Al groans in barely veiled despair. "You don't want me to spill it all over your hand, do you?" His voice is raspy and breathless, the grip he has on me perhaps slightly too tight.

I make good on my filthy promise, welcoming his rod in my wet warmth. "Come on, tough guy, you're better than that." Slowly I move my hips. "If you can insist that a gaping wound is a tiny nick, you can resist this urge..." Fuck _yes_ , this feels amazing. Head thrown back, I cannot resist vocalizing my pleasure. Finally someone has come to put out the fire that Zevran had started.

"You can't liken pain to pleasure, Aster." The poor boy utters a sweet, plaintive whimper. "It isn't the same."

"N-no, well, kind of." His lightly curved shape is in an optimal position to rub that special little spot. Tightly I wrap my arms around his neck. "It all comes down to, to focusing your will." The movements of my hips quicken, his thick cock plunging deeper. "L-like when you're ignoring... pain." A sharp pang of pleasure stabs into my gut. "Ah! Or-or when I'm..." Why do I even try? "Never mind." Pressing my face into his shoulder, I pick up the pace even more. "Maker's breath, Al, I can't get enough of this cock of yours..."

His arms fall around my waist, pulling me closer, almost moulding our bodies into one. "It's yours for as long as you want it, kitty," Alistair murmurs affectionately. "You're special, after all." I would like to gush all over that, but as he conquers my mouth in a scorching kiss, speaking becomes impossible. And unimportant. Let us simply enjoy one another. Every fibre in my body is glowing from this, from his snugly being buried inside of me, from his passionate kiss, from his caressing hands, from his hard muscles pressing against my softness. This act is a gift from the Maker.

The inevitable throbbing doesn't set in for a long time. As soon as it becomes clear that the finish is in sight, I detach my mouth from his and cup my wonderful Warden's face in my hands. "Let me see your pleasure, sweetie." My voice is but a hoarse whisper.

Al barely gets in a nod before the tides wash over his features. "Whoa," he breathes afterwards. "That was so awesome." He almost immediately looks rueful again. "Oh, I haven't even thought of you..." Rue morphs into mischief. "Let me take care of that." I am on my back before I know it, with his face between my thighs. Where I am still dripping with his seed. Why does the thought of him tasting his own cum turn me on so badly? His tongue eagerly probes my cunt; he thoughtfully smacks his lips. "Interesting taste."

"Yeah? Do you like it?" I lay my hand on his head, to guide him if he gets distracted.

"Eh." He shrugs. "I don't hate it." With that, he begins pleasuring me in a very thorough manner. By now he knows what floats my boat; and boy, does he put that knowledge into practise! His fingers slide into me, moving back and forth. His tongue flicks my clit at a lightning speed. Those sweet amber eyes stay fixed on my face, watching me. I can't look away. Tangling my hands into his hair, I revel in that feeling of an imminent orgasm; my hips wriggle of their own accord, the muscles in my thighs tighten.


	186. Painting Denerim Red - Bother-Astoreth-Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But then there is a knock at the door.

### Painting Denerim Red - Bother-Astoreth-Day

Knock, knock. " _Kadan_ , are you there?" Ignore, ignore. "I know you are in there, I can hear you." Ignore some more. "I can keep it up all day, _kadan_. This will only take a moment."

"Argh." Gone is all sexiness. "Is there some national holiday I am unaware of?"

"What holiday would that be?" Al wants to know, licking his fingers.

I roll my eyes. "Bother-Astoreth-Day." Reluctantly I get off the bed. "Now don't go anywhere, you."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Grinning happily, the sexy Warden hides himself under the blankets. As if that large, human-shaped lump could fool anyone. "Please make him leave quickly."

"It's just Sten, he doesn't talk much." I open the door and lean against the jamb, looking up at the Qunari. Seeing him out of armour is kind of odd. "So, Sten, what is so damned urgent that it couldn't wait until later?" I know I sound lustful, but I can't help it. It's just the mood he caught me in.

His violet eyes widen as they take in my appearance. On second thought, maybe I should have at least laced up this shirt. Or put on knickers. "I repaired this for you." Sten holds up my armlet; the blood is completely gone and the tear Asala made in it, has been sewn shut. Looks good. The Qunari grabs my wrist, to turn up my sleeve and inspect the inside of my forearm. "You heal quickly."

"I hardly have a choice." Mmm, his touch is cool against my heated skin. I suppose I can see why Morrigan wants the man so badly. There is just this certain _something_ about him. "Thank you very much." I accept my armlet with a nod. "You've done a good job on it." Now why don't you do a good job on _me_? Ugh. Yay. It's starting again.

"I know." His fingers linger a moment near the almost healed wound on my arm, making me shiver ever so slightly. "You feel hot, _kadan_ , are you becoming ill?" One would swear there was a hint of worry in his gaze.

I laugh. "Let's hope not. Was there anything else?" Go on, get out of here...

"There is indeed." The fingers on my forearm trail up, along my upper arm, shoulder, then down my collarbone. Oh my, what is he doing? Is this what I think it is? Lower and lower, down my breastbone they go. "A word of advice, _kadan:_ watch the way you carry yourself." Much to my disappointment, Sten closes my shirt over my chest. "Otherwise, you might attract unwelcome attention." He leaves me without another word. Ah, my guardian.

Actually, it's a good thing nothing happened. Because, don't I have someone waiting for me, right in my own bed? "All right, Al, he's gone. You can come out now."

"About time!" He throws the blankets off himself, in an explosion of fine cotton and furs. My, my, what a sight... Crooking his finger, he beckons me closer. "Come here, kitty, I'm all ready for you," the young man croons, one hand around his fully erect cock. That sexy, sexy beast.

"Aw, baby, you are so good to me." I jump into his arms and quickly find myself on my knees, with my erstwhile brother-in-arms behind me. "Ooh, how did you know?"

Alistair teasingly rubs his cock between my lips. "Know what?"

"This is my favourite position of all time." Craning my neck to look at him, I lay a languishing, longing look in my eyes. "Hurry, don't make me wait for it too long. Please?"

"Hmm, and here I thought I should try something new." Inch by inch he slips in. "You feel so _good_ , Aster." Groaning in delight, he slowly pumps his hips back and forth.

As it just so happens, I don't want it slow right now. "Faster, Alistair, please. Fuck me harder, please…" For a while he says nothing. It's the same tantalizingly slow rhythm still, the same shallow thrusts. I beg and plead, but he doesn't listen.

"You are an impatient little kitty, aren't you?" The Warden laughs. That dirty tease. "I vaguely recall you saying something about not giving you everything at once, because it's better that way."

"Aww, but Alistaaair…" Wow, my arsenal of cheesy wisdom has just bitten me in the ass. I show him my cutest, most irresistible pout. "Please?" Big eyes, work your magic! "Please?"

He makes a noise halfway between a groan and a chuckle. "I would almost give in to that face of yours, but I'm not going to. Have patience." A friendly pat on the bum. "There's a good girl." Now why am I such a sucker for these things? A handsome man more or less patronizes me in a nice kind of way, and I turn to fawning pile of goo. Guess I'll bury my face in the pillow then, and suffer in silence, pleasurably, until he decides to show me some mercy. "This looks very interesting," he drawls. Suddenly his thumb is circling the entrance to my other orifice. I grasp the coverlets tightly between my clenched fists, breath caught in my throat. It's been too long. "Oh, you like this, don't you?" All I can do is nod and whimper. My pussy's doing all the talking anyway. "Wow! That's a good massage you're giving me there, little Warden." My dear friend laughs, smacking my rear with his free hand. "Can I play with this?"

"Sure, but-..." Moaning softly, I close my eyes for a few moments. "It's better if you moisten your fingers first."

"Thank you, that's always good to know." Slobbering noise. "That ought to do it." I get weak from his slow rubbing; then his fingertip slips in, and I nearly lose it. Not screaming out loud is difficult. My inner walls are clutching him so tightly, it almost hurts. Gripping my hip with one hand, Al moans delightedly: "Damn, I had no idea you were so adventurous." His rhythm is becoming a tad staggered, but I don't care, and he clearly doesn't either.

The stimulation to both places makes it almost impossible to speak. "Maybe… Another time… You could… Mmm… Fill my other hole." His response is an approving hum, and a violent twitch.

"Well, then." Forthwith he picks up his pace, thrusting harder. "That... really is too much for me." No more words; from here on we only enjoy ourselves without talking. Every powerful thrust sends a sting of pleasure into my gut that fans out through my entire body. I can't feel anything else. How long have I been here, getting my brains fucked out by possibly the sweetest boy I know? I have no idea. I know one thing though: I hope he never stops. My arms are beginning to ache, but I don't care. My knees are getting sore, but I don't care. Every time his pelvis bumps against my behind, my breasts jiggle, my nipples rub up against the mattress. Every single movement, down to his finger deliciously massaging my ass, only adds to my pleasure. I can only hope Al likes it just as much as I do.

But, judging from those incredibly sexy grunts he's uttering, I guess so. After all the shit that's been thrown at him, that boy deserves a bit of love and attention. A chance for him to do whatever he wants. Fortunately, _I_ am what he wants to do. Lucky me. There is only one thing that can make this better. Mmm, yes... Supporting my weight on only one hand is hard, but so very worth it. My clit pulses against my finger as I gently flick it. It feels larger and harder than it usually does. Only a few rubs, and there it is. I scream into the pillow; my entire frame tightens first, then relaxes with my release. Fuck, _finally_.

Deep inside me, I feel a distinct throbbing sensation. "Maker's breath, what are you doing?" my lover pants breathlessly. "Stop it... Please, I can't…" Unable to resist, he joins me in climax. Al stays perfectly still as he digs his fingers into my hips and growls. Sweet Maker, Andraste and all the elven gods. Note to self: don't spend too many consecutive sexy times with Alistair. I'm too damned young to die. "Good grief, Aster." With a content sigh, he flops onto the bed beside me and pulls me into his arms. "I think your favourite position might be mine too." He is panting heavily.

"We have so much in common." My fingers trace random patterns on his chest. "Maybe we should hang out sometime. You know, have sex or something."

"Not a bad idea," my companion chuckles. "I have the distinct feeling that you're pretty good at the whole sex thing."

I curl up to his warm body and close my eyes. Mmm, snug as a bug in a rug. "That is something you should find out for yourself, my friend." We lie there in silence for a while. It's not an awkward silence at all. This friends with benefits business may just be the best thing ever invented.

"So, uh..." Al clears his throat. "You like it in the butt, huh?"

"Yeah, I do." A shiver runs down my back. "When done gently and patiently, that is." That first time, it was brilliant. Zevran really knows what he's doing. I should get him to do it again, really.

The boy giggles. "You know, one of the Wardens used to say that his wife almost divorced him when he tried that with her." Still giggling, he continues: "He must have done something wrong."

"I guess so." Something hits me, something sweet and important. "Hey... You are special to me too." It can't be left unsaid. I doubt he doesn't know, but still. Sometimes one needs to hear things out loud.

"Huh?" Al makes his thinking noise. "Oh, that. Heh, thanks..." I don't have to look at him to know that he has turned that particular shade of pink. "You took it upon yourself to rid me of this cloud of horniness I was constantly living in and I will be eternally grateful. Seriously."

"Mmm, it was a sacrifice, but somebody had to do it." I bury my face in his chest. How I love it here.

Laughter vibrates against my cheek. "I know, right? I'm glad it was you. Because you're the best friend I've ever had, and I feel really comfortable around you."

"Aw, I'm glad. I feel the same way." I remember when we met. Not at all what I expected, but I have liked him from the very start. Nice guy, nice looks. There really isn't anything not to like about him. Nothing at all. Maybe the insecurity, but even that is a stretch. "We have been quite close from the get-go, huh?"

"Yeah, we have." He smiles his sweet, innocent smile. "Anyway, now that we're... intimate, I'll do whatever you want. Just name it, and I'll run to do it for you."

"And you wouldn't if I were not sleeping with you?" I shake my head in mock disappointment and touch my hand to my chest. "I am hurt. Deeply hurt. Shame on you."

His eyebrows shoot up. "No, no, I don't mean it like that." The boy pouts, adorably so. "I'm sorry."

"Gotcha..." I grin, tracing his abs with my index finger. Such a beautiful male specimen. "I was only joking, lover."

My expression is mirrored on Al's face. "Good, because I have something for you." His hand closes around mine, guiding it lower down his abdomen. What else could I encounter, but his raging hard-on? "It's all yours, do you like it?" he murmurs into my ear, his breath hot against my neck.

I rub my thumb over the very tip of him, and am rewarded with a sharp gasp. "You know what?" The only response is a desperate, questioning groan. "This is better than First Day!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: before I could be bothered to look such things up, First Day was Christmas.


	187. Painting Denerim Red - Meat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are several mentions of meat in this chapter.

### Painting Denerim Red - Meat

"So, I hear you girls are going out?" Alistair continues shovelling great quantities of food down his gob, pausing only to take a few sips of mead. "Wow, this stuff is awesome," he mutters between bites. Stubbs, who has probably been wandering all around the estate while I was with my colleague, is lying under the table. Apart from a juicy bone (for as far as a bone can be juicy), he has our spills to gobble up. And the occasional piece of meat I throw him. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy. Just look at him pant, aw...

"Indeed we are." Morrigan is the one to reply. She is daintily picking at a plate strewn with some tiny morsels of food. "Perhaps you should come too. We might need ourselves a dogsbody to carry our purchases."

The Warden scoffs. "You can carry your own stuff, lady."

"You are forbidden to join us anyway, Alistair." Leliana smiles and pops a grape into her mouth. "No boys allowed."

"I'm not a boy, I'm a man!" he declares proudly, expanding his chest. The others laugh merrily about what Alistair just said. Thankfully nobody gives a thought to the implication of this statement. Except for Zevran, who is snickering into his cup. The elf winks at me suggestively. I wink back and briefly waggle my eyebrows. Who cares if he knows? He can't fault me for sleeping with two people, as he is doing exactly the same. They should invite me again. I like to watch.

The Antivan casually suggests: "Perhaps we men should do the same and go out tonight as well."

"Nah, I got all I need right here," Oghren replies with his mouth full. He tears another chunk of meat off his turkey leg. There are so many bits stuck in his moustache, ick. "Good food, good booze. I've been outside enough to last me a lifetime. This place has a roof, at least."

"Agreed." Sten swallows a bit of bread. "I am going to polish my weapons and armour; this is an excellent opportunity."

Zev rolls his eyes. " _Oddio_ , you guys are boring." I love it when he speaks Antivan. It might just be the most elegant language known to man.

"I wouldn't mind going out for drinks with you," says Alistair, quite unexpectedly. "As long as you don't try anything funny."

"In that case, never mind." The Antivan laughs heartily. "You would not like me when drunk."

My fellow Warden sighs. "Oh, well. Anyone got a book I can borrow?"

"I certainly do." Wynne is grinning in a rather evil way, something I would never even have thought her capable of. "Astoreth lent me this; perhaps you would enjoy reading it." She hands him a very familiar red book.

"Oh, I know this one. Thanks, I'll never turn down a bit of pornographic entertainment." His eyes narrow. "Why are you smirking like that, Wynne?"

The old lady somehow manages to return to a straight face. "No reason in particular, dear."

"All right then." Al immediately dives into the book. "What...? Seriously...?" Those and similar phrases he mumbles while reading. His eyes are like saucers. Apparently he isn't as absorbed as I thought, because when nobody's paying any attention to us, he bends down and whispers into my ear: "I'll miss you tonight. Will you think of me often?" For a moment, he pets my upper leg.

"The whole time, sweetie." I'll think of the way you squeeze your eyes shut when you come, the way you moan when I lick sensitive spots on you... "Incidentally, you should brace yourself for a disgusting ending."

"Don't snack on anything near the end, got it." He laughs, then eyeballs my plate with a certain gleam of avarice in his gaze. "Are you going to finish that?"

"What, of course I am!" Like a mother hen would her chicks, I keep my food from his hungry, hungry clutches. "My stomach is at least as bottomless as yours. Besides, there is plenty more on the table."

That sneaky scoundrel applies his cutest pout. "Yes, but you hogged all the pork belly, and that is the best part of the animal. It's my favourite."

"I... But..." Damn it all, I can't resist. "Let's share it." Using my amazing powers of guess, I cut the piece of meat in two. "Here..."

Alistair promptly devours it, then shows me a toothy grin. "See, that's why I like you. You don't mind sharing." He burps loudly. "Oops, sorry."

Under the table, my hound barks and licks my ankle. "You just want some pork belly too, don't you?" He barks again. "Fine, but you can't have any of the crackling." That is mine. All mine. Muahahaha! Stubbs happily attacks the generous helping I dangle above his nose.

"Ooh, crackling. Can I...?" He points at the delicious, crispy, divine portion on my plate. "Please?"

"Ugh, fine." Grudgingly I just give him the whole thing. I don't need it anyway. Alistair starts nibbling on it with an incredibly content look on his face. "I might actually lose weight if you continue this."

A rough hand presses my thigh. "Oh, I hope you're not serious, Warden, 'cause that would be a shame." Oghren sends me another one of his trademark dirty grins. "A girl needs a bit of meat on her bones, I always say." Super, he left some gravy on my leg. And now it's gone again. Thanks, Stubbs.

"You have enough meat in your beard for several girls," a very offended-looking Morrigan says in a very Morrigan-like manner. The lady is in need of attention, I see. Now if it turns out that her tastes are as varied as mine, I could give her all the attention she wants. And more. Hehehe…

"Relax, witch, you have more than enough meat on your chest." The dwarf directs his leering at her instead. "Those look like a pair of real tasty sweetbreads."

The witch harrumphs, her expression triumphant. She straightens her shoulders; whether the gesture is deliberate or subconscious, I'll never know. "My thought exactly."


	188. Painting Denerim Red - Wonders of Thedas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess what shop the lady adventurers are going to first?

### Painting Denerim Red - Wonders of Thedas

Shale is glaring at me and plodding on with great reluctance. "Why did it insist on bringing me?" she sighs in exasperation. "I have no need for such outings."

"Because we are going to shop until we drop, and we need you to carry our stuff," I reply. My voice is almost unnaturally cheerful. Ah, Alistair took such good care of me. Dinner was delicious and fulfilling, even with the reduced helping of crackling. Happy day. Ow, my face is really beginning to stretch out of shape.

The golem harrumphs. "So I am to be its slave, is that it?"

"Think of the shoes, Shale." Leliana gives her an encouraging pat. "We shall find you a cobbler yet."

Morrigan rolls her eyes. "Have you decided on a colour? This is vital, you see." Her voice is dripping with sarcasm. "Lives depend upon this crucial affair."

"How about red?" I toss in my two coppers. "I think that would be perfect."

"Red?" Shale thoughtfully rubs her chin. "Does it think that would suit me?"

I nod. "Bold, daring! That's totally you."

"And remember," Morrigan adds. "Red is the colour of blood. You do enjoy the sight of a fountain of it, do you not?"

"Humans are perhaps not as stupid as I always thought." The golem seems genuinely pleased. I'm so damned happy with her seal of approval, let me tell you. Ecstatic, is what I am. "Bold, daring, and the colour of those vile feathered fiends' blood. Pure perfection."

"Yes, yes, lovely," Wynne grumbles. "Can we please move this along? I cannot wait to be rid of this splintery piece of rubbish." The distasteful look she shoots at her staff speaks volumes.

Our bard flashes one of her typical radiant smiles. "As it so happens, we are here." She points up at the sign of the shop we are standing in front of. _Wonders of Thedas_. "See?"

The old lady perks up visibly, and so we are ready to get the less exciting shopping over with.

~*|'-'|*~

All right, I take that back. This isn't a fancy shop with a ton of things I would like to have, but it's exciting nonetheless. I really need to pick up the _Rose of Orlais_ for Wynne; Stiffington's adventures were such a disappointment to her. Crap, this book is so expensive. No wonder nobody has bought it yet. Cullen was reading this, if I remember correctly. I've seen a bit, so I know it's naughty. But what else? There has to be more to it. Random page, here we go.

_Even though their affair had ended a long time ago, Garren was never far from Talia's mind. Despite everything, she loved him. The sad part was that she realized that, but could do naught about it. Not with the way he had left her. Every memory of him hurt. Recollections of his touch, his kiss, the way he had made love to her; they all cut her like poison-tipped daggers. Slowly she was wasting away, all of her remaining energy poured into her once so beloved hobby: painting. Now all she could produce were painfully lifelike portraits of her former lover. His handsome face smirked at her from every angle of her bedroom. Her hobby had become a form of punishment._

_Sighing forlornly, Talia put the finishing touches to her latest portrait. This time, Garren was wearing the armour that made him look even more handsome and powerful and proud. His helmet was tucked under his arm, so his face was in full view. He wore the same arrogant look he always did._

_"My dear, you cannot go on this way any longer," her mother suddenly spoke in a sad tone. Talia was startled; she hadn't even heard her door opening. "You have become so thin; I cannot bear to see you this way any longer." The noblewoman looked at her daughter, whose eyes looked alarmingly hollow and whose cheeks were sunken deeply. Her high cheekbones had become all too prominent. "Please, come down with me and eat."_

_"Why should I?" The young lady's voice came out in a dry croak. "What is the use?" She lay down her brush and palette, then threw herself onto her luxurious bed. "I cannot live without him."_

_Her mother was at her side in an instant, dragging the girl upright. "And you think languishing in your bedroom is the way to get him back, do you?" Her tone of pity had become harsh. "A walking skeleton will regain his love, will it? Let me tell you something, young lady." The older noblewoman grasped her daughter's chin, forcing her to look her in the eye. "You will get dressed properly, come down and eat your dinner. You will become healthy and beautiful once more and then you will apply yourself to getting that damned chevalier back!" Before walking out the door, she hissed: "I did not win your father by playing the helpless princess."_

_Talia looked at the empty door opening in shock. She wasn't quite sure how to feel about that outburst. For the first time in months, her gaunt face broke into a smile. She decided to draw strength from her mother's tenacious pride. Leisurely she ambled over to her spacious closet, so she could pick out a nice dress to wear._

How sweet. I'm sure the old lady will love this. Ugh, look at that. Head of adulterer in honey. That's a miserable look if ever I saw one. "I told you it was gruesome," Leliana chuckles behind me. "Have you ever seen such a look of horror on a man before?" Her smiling face blocks the odd item from view.

"Not that I can recall, no." This is a much better sight, I have to say. "Although you have to admit, you would probably look like that too if someone were to cut off _your_ head and stick it in honey."

Her eyes light up with glee. "Indeed! Look, I have found something amazing." The bard shows me a book, bound in blue leather and stamped with golden letters. _Love Poetry from Distant Lands_. I don't know; I'm not too crazy about poetry, personally. "This book is unique," she whispers reverently. "More than three centuries old. Look at how beautifully the pages have been preserved." The tips of her ears and her cheeks turn pink as she flips through her treasure with the utmost care. The parchment looks brittle and delicate, but the ink is barely faded and the script is a good size. Not bad. What is the deal with the women I travel with and books? She does look so very, very sweet like this. It kind of makes me want to kiss her. And... do... other things... Aw, geez. "Read this one here."

_No way to see him_

_On this moonless night –_

_I lie awake longing, burning,_

_Breasts racing fire,_

_Heart in flames._

 

I'm awestruck. This is such a powerful image, I can see it right in front of me. And haven't we all been there? I know I have. "That is exceptional. But what is this chicken scratch here on the side?" A bunch of inky lines in a jumble.

"No silly, that's no chicken scratch." The bard grins. "It is the original language. Not a soul can read it anymore nowadays, but to the people of Wa, it must have made perfect sense."

"The people of where now?" This was not part of the Circle's history curriculum. Or I might have been asleep when they were teaching this.

Leliana laughs again. "W-A, Wa. It was a collection of islands far, far away to the east. Sadly, they were consumed by a tidal wave, almost two centuries ago." She shakes her head. "The Land of Wa is lost forever now. Thinking about it nearly breaks my heart."

"Seriously, an entire country and its inhabitants, swallowed by the sea?" That is horrible. Imagine how afraid they must have been. "What do you know of this book, exactly?"

"Not a lot." Shrug. "A Fereldan nobleman was shipwrecked there. He spent the rest of his life with these people, learned their language. Those that went looking for him, returned with a great many treasures and curios." Almost lovingly she caresses the cover. "In my opinion, this book is the greatest treasure of all. The editor spent decades collecting and translating his favourite poetry; there is an entire culture _right here_." With a great, dramatic sigh, she returns the book to its place on one of the many shelves. "I cannot afford to buy this anyway. Better not to torture myself any longer." One last wistful look at the blue spine and the girl is off. Good, good. Methinks I have a good plan. Leliana is a wonderful person; she deserves a little present. Even if it costs an arm and a leg. You'd think for that price, it would be made from silver and semi-precious stones. What else is in this, anyway? Let me see...

_Even if I now saw you_

_Only once,_

_I would long for you_

_Through worlds,_

 

Oh, my goodness. That is beautiful. I can really get behind that. Know what I really love here? The brevity. Only a few words convey a powerful image, it's unbelievable. Most poetry I've read was too long and tedious, with overly dramatic and flowery language. Damn. This is amazing. Although, I could be wrong, because here is a long one. With a title, even. Fancy!

**_Things I Want Decided_ **

_Which shouldn't exist_

_In this world,_

_The one who forgets_

_Or the one_

_Who is forgotten?_

_Which is better,_

_To love_

_One who has died_

_Or not to see_

_Each other when you're alive?_

_Which is better,_

_The distant lover_

_You long for_

_Or the one you see daily_

_Without desire?_

_Which is the least unreliable_

_Among fickle things –_

_The swift rapids,_

_A flowing river,_

_Or this human world?_

Oh, this just makes me want to applaud. It's brilliant. I think I'm in love. Hopefully Leliana will allow me to borrow it from her from time to time. This right here, it sounds like tons of fun to read. I will simply sit there and stare into empty space, sighing forlornly. "Wah!" Looks like my brain is already lost in empty space; a simple touch on my shoulder has almost made me jump into the ceiling.

"What if I had been a darkspawn?" Morrigan chuckles, shaking her head in amusement. "You would have been no more, my friend."

"Yeah, well, had you been a darkspawn, I would have felt you long before you could have reached me." The girl has more stuff in her arms than she can actually carry. "Found everything you need?"

She nods. "Elfroot, goose fat, empty bottles and jars, I do believe I-… Oh!" A bottle rolls from its precarious perch; it hits the floor with a dull thud. Without shattering, thankfully. "Good, I despise paying for broken items."

"Broken or not, you're not paying for anything." The coins in my purse jingle joyfully. "I am."

"Oh, does that mean you will be paying for this as well?" Wynne shows me her acquisition: a metal staff in the shape of two intertwined dragon's heads, grasping a single glass ball between their jaws. That is a beautiful thing. "It is so much better than my old one, if a bit steep in price…"

I shrug. "Yeah, whatever you need. Is that all you guys want?"

"Look here, old cat." Morrigan, who has already dumped her mountain of items on the counter, is showing her fellow mage a lovely set of red robes. "Are you not in need of a better garment?"

"Aren't you, little witch?" There is a kind of uneasy peace between the two, where they only express their dislike for one another, without acting on it. Thank the Maker for that. I need them both. "You have barely a thread on your body."

Morrigan shrugs. "My body is one that is simply begging to be displayed to the world." A predatory smile graces her features. That look suits her. "And what threads I _do_ have on my body are of far better quality than your Circle rags."

"By all the birds in this city!" Shale groans, ready to explode. "None of this matters a single, tiny, miniscule bit. Give me something to do, before I go mad with boredom. Or let me return. Even the sister has become tired of your constant bickering. It has gone outside just now." The golem turns on her heel. "I shall keep it company and find myself a few birds to crush. Oh, I did happen to see a squishy little squirrel on the way here..."

Not that I see her as a pack mule, or anything, but: "Sure, Shale, just let me pay for this stuff first, so you can carry it for us."

"Ugh, must I?" The stone creature lets out another sigh. "I do not hate it yet, but I am coming awfully close." While she goes off on a tangent about how badly I treat her, she never gets to go on missions, wah, wah, wah, and all that, I listen with half an ear and pay for our stuff. Goodbye, shiny coins.

"I shall rue the day you finally hate me," I promise solemnly. "Now if you would hold out your arms like this..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, a very long time ago, Japan was called the land of Wa. The poetry is by Izumi Shikibu (the second and third) and Ono no Komachi (the first), ladies of the Japanese court give or take a thousand years ago. These are translations by Aratani Mariko and Jane Hirschfield. If they piqued your interest, look for their collection "The Ink Dark Moon".


	189. Painting Denerim Red - Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some claim that red is Astoreth's colour. Also, Shale seems very fond of it.

### Painting Denerim Red - Red

"So let me get this right: you want me to make a pair of sandals for..." The cobbler looks very strangely at Shale, which is understandable. "For your friend here," he finally manages. It must be a strange sight, this walking, talking statue. The man looks at me with his head tilted, trying to make sense of it, I think. There really is no sense to be made of this madness; I realized that a long time ago.

"That's right," the golem replies, all on her own. "I need some cushioning for my feet."

The shoemaker scratches his head, looks at her feet, at her face, then back to her feet again. "Uh, yeah... They will need to be really sturdy."

Leliana chimes in: "Indeed! Shale weighs a lot." Understatement of the century, that.

"Is the sister calling me fat?" our stone companion demands to know, her tone threatening. We all back away a bit.

"No, no! I would never!" Leliana raises her hands in a placating gesture. "You're not fat, you are strong and sturdy." I could swear she is trembling ever so slightly.

Shale chuckles. "That was a joke, sister." No hilarity ensues. That was too convincing. "My sense of humour is lost on you squishy beings." Long sigh. "In any case, what are my options?" she asks the cobbler.

"For you, the best thing would probably be a pair of clogs. Here." The man reaches under the counter and produces an example: the sole is made from polished wood; the upper is made from what looks like supple leather, nailed to the sole with copper studs. "What do you think?"

Very gingerly, Shale takes the item in her hand and inspects it from every angle. "I would like them to be open-toed, maybe with a thick strap at the ankle. Is that possible?" That is what Leliana suggested, if I remember correctly. Nice to see her and Shale getting along this well.

"Sure." The cobbler shrugs. "I can do pretty much anything, as long as you have the money."

Subsequently our stone friend commands me: "Pay it, Warden!"

"Well hey, your wish is my command." It isn't, really, but she does so much for so little in return. I whip out my coin purse. "How much are we talking here?" We haggle about the price, more because I'm trying to keep my negotiating skills sharp than because I think the price is too high, until we come to an agreement. I knocked about a quarter off, there. Not bad.

While Shale and the shoemaker work out an exact design and she is being measured and whatnot, Leliana looks at the proceedings with slight envy in her gaze. "I miss my silk slippers every day." In obvious dismay she shoots a glance at her boots. "These are so inelegant."

"Really? What did those slippers look like?" I bet they weren't caked in mud most of the time. Or blood. Smelling like death from wearing them days on end. Maker, we're actually pretty disgusting.

"Pale blue silk, pointed toe, studded with jewels and ribbons, impossibly high heels..." The bard sighs as if in love. "They made me look so beautiful. Can you imagine?" She spins around slowly, balancing on the tips of her toes. Lost in dreamland.

I don't know about that, really. There is only one thing I do know: "I think you are beautiful whether you're wearing fancy shoes or not."

Leliana halts mid-spin. "Really?" She flings her arms around me. "You are the sweetest!"

" _Three whole days?_ " Shale rudely interrupts our tender moment. "I have to wait three whole days for my shoes to be done? Can't it be any quicker?"

The shoemaker shakes his head. "Afraid not."

"Not even if I threaten to squish it?" the golem asks hopefully.

"Afraid not." The shoemaker shakes his head again.

I lay a hand on Shale's arm. "You know, Shale, if you let the man take his time, you can be sure that your shoes will get all the care and attention that they deserve and they will be perfect."

"Oh, well, if it puts it that way, I suppose I can have some patience." She sighs sadly. "Three days! I am unsure if I can bear that." We leave the cobbler to his work, while Shale moans and complains about not wanting to wait three whole days. Even _she_ is like a child sometimes.

~*|'-'|*~

Now this is a store I didn't see the last time we were in the city. _Frederick's Sexy Sundries_. "What kind of sundries might those be, and how sexy are we talking?" I muse out loud.

"Why don't we find out?" Leliana is already halfway through the door.

"Oh my..." Wynne blushes a pale red. "Sexy? That may not be my cup of tea."

Smirking wickedly, Morrigan replies: "Indeed, old woman. Is it not time for you to retire to bed?"

Aforementioned old woman smiles in her typical kind way. "Isn't it time for you to drop dead, dear Morrigan?" she says, her voice sugary sweet.

"Oh, nice." Shale gives a slow clap. "The elderly mage has a sharp wit."

"Ladies, please, be nice to each other." I give the angry women a stern look. "If you can't manage that, we will have to return to Arl Eamon's mansion. Is that what you want?" Sterner look. "Do you really want to ruin it for everyone?"

The witch and the enchantress meekly shake their heads. "No, Astoreth," they mumble in one voice.

"Good." Golems, grown women; everybody has their childlike moments. Finally we may go inside.

There, a bored-looking gent who is dressed in bright, shiny pink from head to toe and sporting a simply glorious handlebar moustache, perks up. "Oh, could it be? _Customers_?" Goodness gracious. Quite contrary to his effeminate appearance, the man has a deep, manly voice. "Welcome, dear ladies." He flips his long, auburn curls away from his face in an elegant gesture.

"Greetings." I'll just cut right to the chase. "So, sexy sundries, huh?"

"We are very curious as to what those sundries might be," our bard adds. She is almost bouncing from sheer curiosity. Oh, just you wait until I show you your present, girl. You'll love it!

Mister Moustache smiles knowingly. "Ah, I have many things to entice your lovers," he comments with a wink. "Sexy lingerie, balms and ointments to, ah…" He coughs. "To improve endurance, shall we say? Certain items for the bedroom, to spice up your love life or chase away loneliness." A smooth smirk. "Though I'm sure that last part does not apply to you ladies." Suddenly, his eyes grow wide. They bulge so far from their sockets, they might pop out at any moment. "You!" he exclaims, pointing a shaky finger behind us. Whoa, what is going on? "My lady, you are a vision!"

"W-what?" Wynne, our very own vision, clutches a hand to her chest. "Surely you don't mean-..."

"Hush now, my silver-haired goddess." Mister Moustache kneels at the old lady's feet and seizes her hand. Heheheh, I don't think I've ever seen her embarrassed in such a way. The man plants noisy, smacking kisses on the back of her hand and subsequently up her forearm. "Your young companions are lovely, but you surpass them with your beauty. When they are your age, they will be lucky to be half as stunning as you." I suppose that's true. The woman has barely a wrinkle on her.

"Oh, my..." Her expression one of uncertainty as how to feel about all of this, Wynne forces out a smile. "Certainly you are exaggerating, Mister...?"

He smiles widely under his well-groomed moustache. "My name is Frederick, my beautiful queen. What do they call you?"

"A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Frederick, I am Wynne," the old lady politely introduces herself. "And these young ladies a-..."

"Oh, who cares?" Jumping to his feet, the pink-clad shopkeeper drags our baffled companion behind him, in the direction of a curtain in the back of the room. "Come, my muse! I have designs to model on your luscious frame!" Wynne's protests go unheeded.

Morrigan looks around in disbelief. "Are we in the Fade? For I am certain that this, just now, did not happen."

"Do you find it strange that someone might find Wynne attractive?" Leliana is already sifting through a rack of garments. "She is remarkably well-preserved for someone her age."

The golden-eyed witch shrugs, reluctantly. "I… must admit, loath as I am to do so, that the old woman is not as disgusting as she could be."

"Wow Morrigan, you are so liberal with your compliments." I see something pretty, something flimsy in black and red. "How do you think this would look on me, Leliana?" Short, partially see-through… I think Al and Zev would like it, at least.

The bard whistles. "I think you would look darling in it, dearest, but perhaps you should try this colour. Less dark." She hands me virtually the same garment, but in all red.

"What need have I for such-… Oh, how lovely." Almost reverently, Morrigan cradles a little negligee in her hands. The satin is a deep shade of purple. "I would look very beautiful in this."

"No more than you do already, my dear." Maker's breath, I'm smooth. And sincere. And so incredibly modest too.

The witch giggles sweetly, so unlike her usual self. "Oh, stop it…" It seems that being surrounded by all these pretty things has a positive effect on her. "Incidentally, I think red is just your colour."

"I agree. Now, let's not waste any more time." Leliana hooks a finger into my belt. "I shall help you with all your ribbons and clasps and whatnot. Follow me." She subsequently guides me behind a thick, velvet curtain in the back of the room, where it will be just the two of us. My, how exciting.

"Is there anything _you_ would like to try on?" I ask. Whatever I can do to break the tension, that probably only I am feeling.

"Not really." The bard looks up from fiddling with the strap around my waist. "Believe it or not, I have too many unmentionables like these." She smiles radiantly. Hers might be the loveliest smile I have ever seen.

"Oh, I believe it," I laugh. A bit strained, one might notice. The pleasant smell that hangs around this woman is driving me mad. The chains around my waist land on the floor with a metallic clang, my corset soon follows suit; I can't suppress a sigh of liberation.

Leliana laughs, the sound like the jingle of so many little bells. "Silly, it was barely tightened." Her nimble fingers make short work of my collar. "Mages' attire is very intricate..." Slowly but surely, my robes are dismantled, until there is hardly anything left to take off. "You are quite uninhibited, I see." She giggles. "Many people would have taken offense to my sliding into their bathtub or helping them undress, but not you."

"Nope." A few laces loosened, and I can step out of the remainder of my clothing. "Until very recently, I had no idea what the word 'privacy' meant. Hand me that nightie, would you?" It slips over my head with ease, the feel of the fabric smooth and breezy against my skin. Great fit. I fold my arms under my bust, pressing the area upwards and together. This looks pretty good. "What do you think?" I look at myself in the tall mirror that's installed on the far wall. Yeah, this will be a great hit with my boys. Oddly enough, it would be quite functional as well. I mean, I can simply pop one breast out of this thing to feed Collin. Aw, how would my baby be doing? I'm sure Helena is taking great care of him. As long as my precious is happy and safe.

"Dearest one, you look ravishing." Leliana appears behind me, peeking over my shoulder. Her hands tug at the silky fabric, to smoothen it. "This has been made just for you, I think." The young woman smiles at me in the mirror. Maker's breath, she's lovely. What I wouldn't give to kiss her. I'm wondering what's stopping me. What indeed? Mmm, there is no time like the present.


	190. Painting Denerim Red - Shoes, Shoes, Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that Leliana really likes shoes? Has she mentioned that yet? No?

### Painting Denerim Red - Shoes, Shoes, Shoes

The curtain separating the fitting room from the rest of the place is pushed away all of a sudden. Who else could it be but our lovely Morrigan? "Never mind the woman behind the curtain," she says in a cheerful tone. Promptly she pulls her top off, revealing those perfect breasts of hers. But nice tits or no, she is intruding just the slightest bit. Oh, well. I doubt I would have had the guts to simply swoop in and start making out with Leliana. The witch briefly looks me up and down. "You look wonderful, my friend. Here," she hands our red-headed friend something. "You simply must try this one, Leliana."

"Why, Morrigan, you have excellent taste." Leliana examines the sky blue nightgown, in a shimmering fabric trimmed with creamy lace. Unlike what I have on and what the witch is slipping over her shoulders, hers will reach down to her ankles. "I cannot resist this." Her leathers are gone in an instant, the blue garment donned just as quickly. "Ah, soft as a cloud…" Those hip-high slits are so scandalous. If I had any sense of propriety at all, I might faint. Fie! For shame, and all that!

"Look at us three, trying on all too sexual garments together." Morrigan chuckles. "Somewhere, somebody is having a dream similar to this."

I giggle at the idea. "Boy, are they going to be bummed when they wake up." For a few moments, we all share a laugh.

"If there is any fun at all to be had in here, I wish to be part of it." Shale joins our party. "What is going on?" Her glowing eyes look at each of us in turn.

"What do you think?" Leliana lays her arms around Morrigan's shoulders and mine, pulling us closer to her. "Aren't we lovely?"

The golem shrugs. "If I were a squishy male instead of my invincible self, I would certainly be hard now." She nods. "And then the dwarf would add something along the lines of 'bow chicka bow wow', whatever that may mean."

"You have spent decidedly too much time with him!" Morrigan explodes with laughter. "That _is_ exactly what he would say."

"Oh, that Oghren." I shake my head, still chuckling. He is hilarious. "I'll go check on Wynne, see what she's up to." What does that man want with her, anyway? I hope I don't walk into anything that will need barrels full of brain bleach to clear away. "Wynne, are you all right?"

The old lady smiles fondly. "Certainly, dear. I am having a-…"

"Now, now, my goddess, please stay still," Mister Moustache, or I should say Frederick, admonishes his muse. Tip of his tongue protruding from between his lips, the man pins a row of ruffles to the unusual design modelled on our elderly enchantress. It would look so much better on her if she weren't still wearing her robes underneath. He takes his eyes away from his work. "Well, well. Look at you, little heartbreaker." A longing sigh rolls from his lips. "See, I really miss this, ladies going in and out of my shop, trying on my creations." He grins. "Filling my pockets with gold. Give us a twirl, my darling." Flattered as I am, I do as he asks. "Gorgeous!" Frederick sticks up both of his thumbs, a smile of joy on his face. "I have that design in several colours; you should try the blue one." He returns to his labour of love. "Now shoo, daddy's busy."

Daddy? Ew, you're not my daddy. …Right? Nah. "Er, all right, but we are going to need our friend back at some point." There is a lot more fun to be had, let me tell you. "Some point in the not too distant future."

"Very well, rip my muse away from me, if you must." The shopkeeper sighs sadly. "But you will be back, won't you, my queen?"

"If I can…" The old lady shows him a shy smile. "I fear I cannot make any promises." Yeah, there's the Blight, for one. And the fact that she is, in essence, dead. Deceased in the manner of a doornail, if you will. Living on borrowed time. She seems so normal, for someone who should be pushing up daisies.

Frederick rolls his eyes. They're greener than the Brecilian Forest, flecked with tiny specks of bronze and gold. "Story of my life… If I had a copper for every time someone told me that, I would be a rich man." Matching several kinds of lace to the dress pinned to Wynne, he mumbles: "You can have her back in a moment; I really need to finish this."

"It's all right, dear." Wynne seems to be having the time of her life. "We have time, don't we?"

"Yes, we do. Very well, I'll browse the shop some more." Time for me to leave those two alone.

How sad. It's obvious that this place doesn't see many customers: the many bottles lining the shelves are covered by a thin layer of dust. Strawberry oil? Sounds lovely. And yes, lovely it is. Mmm… I'm going to rub this all over someone's beautiful body and give them the ride of their life. Zevran or Alistair? Why not both? Sweet ass of Andraste, am I a lucky girl. From years of pent-up frustration, to those two. For all the stuff I'm missing, I'm getting a whole lot back. Sometimes I wonder whether it is nothing but pointless, mindless sex that I should stop having. But no, that's not it. Those guys mean something to me. I am decidedly too sentimental. Guess that is part of being a woman. Then there's Jowan, of course. But I shouldn't think of him too often; I do not want to be crying all the time.

Ooh, here we have the blue one… Gorgeous. I would look fabulous in this. Are there any stockings around to go with this, I wonder? Yes, yes, there are. They're rather flimsy, but so pretty. All sheer silk and lace. Must have. And are these things _shoes_? Wow, they look about as practical as a house made out of matchsticks. I don't think I can walk in them. "Oi, Leliana, have you seen these yet?"

"Seen what?" She rushes from behind the curtain and sighs blissfully, as soon as she catches sight of the shoes. "Oh, this has to be the Golden City… I had almost forgotten I was staring through the window the last time I was wandering through Denerim. I can't wait to try some of these on!"

"I really don't see the appeal." Unless you enjoy broken ankles.

The bard playfully swats my arm. "You will, just watch." Standing on her toes, she grabs a pair of particularly high-heeled specimens off the shelves. Just looking at them makes me dizzy. "Step into these, dearest."

"Well, if you insist." Lovely. What am I unlacing my boots for? These things are about as comfortable and stable as I imagine stilts to be. "Don't, for the love of the Maker, ask me to walk even an inch in these."

"You are being too dramatic. Come on." Leliana nudges my back. "You will be fine." I try taking a step and promptly fall flat on my face. "Or maybe not."

Somewhere above me, I can hear Morrigan laughing. "What are you _doing_?"

"Whatever it is, it amuses me greatly." Shale. Humph, bitch.

"Perhaps you were right," says the redhead regretfully as she helps me up. "Are you hurt?"

"Nope, everything in order." I give my face a quick check. "No harm done."

Our witch, who apparently has the exact same size as I, subsequently slips her feet into the shoes and struts about. "I do not see how you can have any trouble with this, Astoreth. 'Tis simple."

"You are a natural, Morrigan." The red-haired bard looks at her with barely veiled admiration. So am I, but not because she can get around so well in her high heels. Look at the way that ass sways. From left to right and right to left. It's damn near hypnotic. I want nothing more than to sink my teeth into her firm flesh. Rawr. But let's forget about that altogether. It would be rude to just bite her in the butt.

"Yeah, you must have better balance than I do. If you all don't mind, I shall stick with my ugly boots." I send them an affectionate look. "They have served me well."

Leliana glares at my footgear. "I'm sure they have, but they do not please the eye. Tell me, do your lovers enjoy the sight of these muddy atrocities on your otherwise lovely feet?" she asks innocently.

"I… What?" My cheeks begin burning. "I don't know, I've never asked. Furthermore, I don't keep my shoes on in bed. Do you?"

"Sometimes." The Orlesian wiggles her eyebrows. "Some enjoy that, you know."

I shrug. "I guess that as a professional seductress, you would know." Come to think of it, Leliana in my red nightie, with those shoes on? Sweet Maker, _yes_.


	191. Painting Denerim Red - Now It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the other ladies drunkenly stumble home, Astoreth and Leliana make a new friend.

### Painting Denerim Red - Now It Begins 

Ha! Shale looks wonderfully ridiculous with all those bags hanging off her arms and neck. She's still complaining about those shoes of hers taking three days. Leliana found two more gowns that she absolutely _had_ to have, Morrigan thought a mere five should suffice and even Wynne managed to dig up something to her liking. Very practical and not sexy at all (which makes me suspect it doesn't belong in _Frederick's Sexy Sundries_ ), but very nice quality. As for myself, well, yeah... Let's say it's a good thing I don't have to carry all this crap myself. Now here's hoping that for the time being, I can store it somewhere in the arl's home. I'm happy Frederick was so madly infatuated with Wynne, though; he gave us an enormous discount. That made quite a difference.

After buying three complete sets of armour – two leather, one metal – from a master blacksmith (only two grapes shy of a full fruit basket) and his surly assistant, my purse was a good bit lighter. Then came the bakery, oh dear. I'll be tasting chocolate whenever I belch for a month to come. Sten is going to love the cookies I got him. An assortment of flavours, even savoury ones. A collection of stinking Orlesian cheeses for Alistair, a leg of mutton for Stubbs from the butcher's. In short, we bought everything but the kitchen sink. Had I need of that, I would have bought it as well. I bet Collin is going to look very handsome in his new clothes. Oh, I can't wait to see him again!

It's a shame really… Wynne's age is showing itself; she is yawning and constantly nodding off. I suppose that after these drinks, she will be retiring to bed. This is such a nice place. _The Gnawed Noble_. I wonder how they came up with that name. Very appropriately, there are a few people here who look like they are part of the nobility. Maybe they are here for the Landsmeet? Meh, I'll chat them up later. This is my time off. Fuck working.

"I must say, I've had a…" Yawn. "A lovely time," Wynne says, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"There, there, old woman, 'tis clearly past your bedtime." Morrigan pats her shoulder with mock concern. "You should retire."

This time, the senior member of our group makes no biting remark. "Indeed it is and indeed I should. Let me finish my ale first." There it goes, in one big gulp. "Ah, not as good as Oghren's brew, but it hits the spot."

"I prefer the mead," says the witch, her voice suddenly slurred. "Oh, bother. I have had enough." She rises and offers Wynne her arm. "Come, old cat, we must lean on one another for safety and stability. I wish to leave before I incur a painful headache."

"Aw, but I would like to stay." Leliana sighs. "Don't you wish to stay also, Astoreth?"

Hmm… "I _am_ having a good time, yeah."

"If the Grey Warden and the sister decide to remain here, I shall escort these two drunkards back to the mansion," Shale offers helpfully. No doubt she's had it with our little trip and all the stuff she is carrying.

"I am not drunk." Wynne shoots the golem a half-hearted glare. "Morrigan is, though."

Morrigan harrumphs. "I am not! Not yet." Giggle. "Perhaps a little."

"Time for you ladies to sleep it off." I wave them goodbye, as does our bard. "We will see you tomorrow at breakfast." The three trudge away. That leaves only us two.

Leliana chuckles: "Or lunch, depending on how red we shall be painting this town."

"I'm thinking… burgundy." That's a pretty shade of red. "How about you?" Am I taking this too literally? I must be on the way to getting drunk myself.

"You are very strange sometimes, but I like the way you think." The bard clinks our cups together, chuckling heartily. "Shall we have another drink or two, then see what else there is to do around here?" She gasps. "Perhaps we can go dancing! Oh, I haven't danced in ages…"

I make a face. "I don't dance."

"Why not?" She bumps her shoulder against mine. "It is so fun and relaxing. You should try it sometime."

"Oh well, if you're willing to teach me, I-…"

"Ladies?" Suddenly the waitress is at our table, setting two spindly glasses with colourful drinks in front of us. Hee... Those are so pretty. "From the gentleman at the bar." The young woman points towards a tall, good-looking fellow, who raises a trembling hand and smiles shyly. He is blushing like crazy. Have I seen him before? Maybe. We see a lot of people.

Leliana smiles, eyeing the sweet-looking concoctions rather greedily. "How kind of him."

"Oh my goodness, he's _adorable_." Eep, so cute. I just want to hug him, and pet him, and love him forever. And perhaps do a few naughty things as well. Rawr.

Meanwhile, the gentleman has slowly and hesitantly made his way to our table. "Hi," he almost whispers, a quiver in his voice. "How, uh, how are you doing?"

"Very well, cutie." His awkward chuckle at my compliment makes me smile. I slide onto the chair beside mine and pat the empty one between Leliana and myself. "Have a seat, won't you?"

"Oh, thanks..." Eyes darting to and fro, he sits himself between us, with lots of noise and stumbling. I make sure my leg is closely nestled against his. Not even Alistair blushes as much as this guy.

Leliana turns to the young man, a radiant smile on her face. "Welcome." She gestures to the waitress for a tankard of ale. "What is your name, my darling?" Her voice is kind, laced with a hint of curiosity and seduction. We're about to see the bard at work, methinks.

"I, uhm, m-my name is George." Nervously the lad fidgets, taps his long fingers on the table. "What are you called?" He looks at the both of us in turn, for only a moment. His eyes stay downcast. Pity, because they are a very nice shade of blue.

"I am Leliana, my dear." She gently cups her fingers to his chin and lifts it, making it difficult not to look right at her. Why on earth would anybody want to avoid looking at her beautiful face? "Don't be afraid of us. We don't bite."

"Not very hard, anyway," I add cheerfully, patting the boy on the leg. "Call me Aster." 'Astoreth' is such a mouthful; I'm not sure what possessed whoever named me. Oh, this poor man – his frame looks, and feels, rigid. "Just relax; have some ale." I watch him chug down the contents of the tankard that has seemingly come to our table by way of magic. "There, that's better. Now then, George, why don't you tell us what you do for a living?" Hey, I still have my dainty drink. It's even sweeter than it looks.

George wipes a bit of wayward foam from his mouth. "Oh, well, I'm a baker." He looks at me, studies me intently. "Hey, weren't you in the bakery today?" Leliana gets the same treatment. "Yeah... You had this man in stone armour with you and you bought almost everything I had on hand, am I right?"

Oh, so I have seen him before. "That was you?" Huh. No idea he was this cute.

"Yes, I look different when I'm not covered in flour," he chuckles. The man is a mind reader, clearly.

"Well, you clean up nicely." The bard leans forward, tossing back her russet locks. She curves an elegant hand around the foot of her glass. Every time I'm surprised at how seductive this woman can be, if she sets her mind to it. At other times, nobody even seems to notice how beautiful she is.

"Heh, thanks..." Another shy smile appears on our guest's face, before he fixes his gaze at something interesting in the distance. Once again his fingers are rapping a quick march on the table. "I'm sorry. I'm _so_ nervous."

Mmm, but I love the cute, shy ones. "Why is that?" My first instinct is to snuggle up close to him, but no doubt that will only worsen his shyness. "You weren't nervous in the bakery at all." I remember him being all smiles and very efficient in helping his customers.

"That was work," he says quietly. "This is different." The fidgeting and tapping continues, now with some throat clearing added.

Leliana fires off another radiant smile. "I have always been curious as to how bread is made. Perhaps you could enlighten me?" She looks at him in expectation.

Her question is a move of sheer brilliance, for a twinkle appears in the young man's eyes and his earlier timidity vanishes into thin air. "Well, the trick is to have the best flour you possibly can. And that, of course, comes from the best possible grain, so then..." George launches into a speech about the technicalities of baking bread that doesn't interest me much, to be honest. Leliana, on the other hand, looks like she's hanging on his every word. "I tell you, nothing beats the smell and taste of freshly baked bread," he concludes.

"Mmm, slathered with butter." Now that is something that interests me: fresh bread with a good, thick layer of butter. Maybe some cheese too, but that's not vital. My stomach starts growling.

Our bard, ever the sweet tooth, is licking her lips over: "Raspberry preserves. That's what I like on my bread. And it is simply _divine_ on a croissant!"

"I tried selling those too, but they never really caught on." George shakes his head. "My customers called them frilly and pretentious Orlesian nonsense, they did. Can you believe that? Barbarians!"

I shrug. "It's understandable. After all, a croissant is delicious, but it isn't very substantial." I daresay there is more air in there than there is dough. "The people here are looking for good sustenance. They work very hard."

"Eat to live, eh?" The baker laughs. "I live to eat, as you can probably tell." He pats his belly, which is on the pudgy side. I think that only makes him cuter, though. Washboard abs are dead sexy, but I have nothing against a round tummy. That would be hypocritical of me. "You don't get to be this size by eating sensibly."

"Aw, your tummy is adorable." Like the unadjusted person that I am (I blame it on spending most of my life up in some tower), I'm rubbing it as if I have never encountered a stomach before. "Come, Leliana, you have to feel how soft he is!"

She does the same as I, but with more restraint. "How comfortable it must be, to rest upon this," she says with a wink.

The suggestive quality of this comment is not lost on our handsome guest: his blush returns with a vengeance. "I... I don't even know what to say to that," he chuckles. "Uh, thanks for the attention?"

"You're very welcome." My hand still on his belly, I peck him on the cheek. My, my, he appears to be burning. "You are so adorable; I could just eat you up." And he smells great too; like bread, which isn't all that surprising.

"Please don't eat me." George whimpers in mock fear. "I enjoy life too much!" He looks at me, smiling. "You know, I'm glad I came here to talk to you. You girls are very pleasant."

Now it is my lovely friend's turn to press a light kiss to his cheek. "As are you, my dear. What prompted you to come to us?"

"Uhm..." He signals with his eyes to a table close to the bar and sighs. "My mates made me." A group of young men is sitting around aforementioned table; some of them are watching us openly, some of them are pretending not to. "They're always pushing me to talk to women."

"I don't think there is any shame in being shy." This time I do nestle up to him. "It is part of your charm. And if you don't like talking to women, feel free not to." Hmm... Let's give those boys a proper eyeful. I grab George's arm and drape it around my shoulders; Leliana promptly does the same. "This isn't so bad, is it?"

He shakes his head. "No, not at all." By and by the stiffness in his posture lessens. "I could get used to this." He starts looking around like he owns the place and I can hear wolf whistles from his mates. Bet they are mighty proud of him right now.

"So could I." Leliana has cuddled up to our newfound friend, her arm around his waist. "This is more comfortable than my bed at the mansion!" She gives a little delighted sound.

"Mansion?" George gives the both of us a strange look. "Are you noblewomen, or something?"

I can't help but laugh at that. Me, a noblewoman... Preposterous. Leliana, maybe. She has a rather noble, elegant air about her. "No, we're adventurers, but we're staying with a nobleman at the moment." I don't want to think about the mess that brought us here. Get out of my head, stupid Landsmeet. You too, Loghain. Apparently my hand has been wandering without my knowledge, because I encounter a very prominent bump and hear a surprised yelp. "Oops, I'm sorry, that was an accident, I swear." How rude of me.

"Well, I uh, can't say I really mind all that much." The baker looks redder than ever. He looks away, chuckling awkwardly.

If that isn't an invitation, I don't know what is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incidentally, I think I watch too many cookery shows.


	192. Painting Denerim Red - Handjobs for Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So guess what happens in this chapter.

### Painting Denerim Red - Handjobs for Strangers

"That's nice to hear." I lay my hand on his erection, squeezing. Then stroke it, with a touch as light as air. The way he reacts, like it's something entirely new. "Do you mind?"

"No." He all but moans the word. "But, here?" His fingers grab a firm hold of my shoulder; he is squinting, doing his best not to close his eyes, I think. His breathing comes in short, ragged gasps.

"Yes, right here." My hand continues its ministrations. "You can always tell me to stop." Something tells me that he won't. Perhaps it's the twitching of his stiff cock.

"No, no, do carry on..." The man makes a sound halfway between a groan and a chuckle.

Leliana utters a throaty chuckle, her eyes glittering. "My friend, you are so mischievous." Then her eyebrows shoot up and her smile widens. "But of course I already knew that." Oh yeah, that little incident when I was under the table. Good times... Before long, her hand joins mine. "You are very well-endowed," she purrs into George's ear.

His immediate response is to grit his teeth and dig his fingers deeper into my shoulder. It kind of hurts, but he would have to rip off my arm to make me stop. "Maker's breath! You're too kind," he groans. As our hands disappear down his trousers, his face turns even more strained. Ah, this velvety feeling... I love it. And Leliana is right: this thing is plenty big. Nice. My hand glides up and down his length, while my friend toys with his family jewels. We make a good team.

"Can I get you anything?" It's the waitress. I hadn't even bothered to check whether or not anybody was watching, but it seems that she at least hasn't noticed a thing. She is giving us a sunny smile.

Without taking my hand off the baker, I return that smile and say: "Oh yes, thank you, I think I'll have another one of those whatzits." And by whatzit, I naturally mean one of those sweet, colourful drinks.

"The same for me, please." Leliana turns to George. "What about you, my dear?" The way she's smirking is almost diabolical. I like this girl better and better.

"Ale would be just lovely." The man's voice is tiny and choked. This is hilarious, I have to say. Not that I'm only doing this for giggles; I truly and sincerely enjoy pleasing a man. He _seems_ to like it, at least. When the waitress has left, he sighs: "Is this real life?"

I blow warm breath into his ear, making things even worse. "Could just be fantasy."

"But it is real," our favourite bard adds. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, you know, two women I've never met before are playing with my bits in a public place." Stifled groan. "That is the stuff of wet dreams, you know."

The waitress turns up again, and we all try to maintain a semblance of normalcy. "Here you are." She sets the drinks on our table and tucks her tray under her arm. "Now, could you all do me a favour and try not to get any cum on my furniture? I've only just waxed it, you see." The request is posed in a perfectly normal, conversational tone, like she sees it every day. Perhaps she does. "Stains terribly, that does."

"We will be careful," Leliana assures her. The bard doesn't even bat an eyelash, while I'm sure I am as red as a beetroot. We're lucky she doesn't just throw us out, never to let us in again.

"Much obliged." The young woman nods and then turns to respond to a desperate cry for ale from another table: "Yes, I'm coming." She looks at George, bursts out laughing. "And I'm not the only one!" What a comedian. Still laughing, she runs off.

The baker pushes his face into the side of my neck. "She's not wrong, you know." Feeling his mouth move against my skin sends chills down my back.

"Mmm, I can tell." Licking her lips, Leliana winks at me. "Not much longer now." Her hand creeps up and her fingers close around mine. "Shall we do this together, dearest?" she asks sweetly, her eyes gleaming with a feverish intensity.

"My, you are full of brilliant ideas." And so our hands, moulded into one, glide up and down his throbbing shaft. "You like this, don't you, handsome?" His only answer is a half-happy, half-desperate whimper and more vehement throbbing.

My friend grins. "Now, my darling, try to look as normal as you possibly can." I'm not quite sure whether we're torturing or pampering this poor soul.

"Believe me, I'm trying." George, meanwhile, seems to have developed a twitch in his left eye. His face frozen mid-twitch, his entire body becomes stock-still; even his breathing seems to have stopped. The throbbing in his organ is the sole indication of his climax. Leliana and I slow our strokes, until the palpitations have died down. Only then does George blow out a long breath. "Ho, _damn_!"

I hand him my handkerchief. "Here, clean yourself up with this."

"Thanks." Blushing as red as a tomato, he unabashedly wipes himself down. "Uh, I'm sorry. It's got a bit dirty." My dainty, lacy hanky has become a wet, wrinkled rag. I don't really want that anymore.

"You know what, why don't you keep it?" I rise from my chair, laying a hand on the man's shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. "Thanks, handsome, it's been fun."

My companion even bends down to kiss him on the cheek and hug him as if they've known each other for ages. Her smile is more radiant than ever. "Thank you very much for the drinks, my darling, you have been very sweet." She moves beside me and loops her arm around mine. "We must take our leave, but please enjoy the rest of your evening."

A goofy grin on his face, our new friend waves us goodbye. I can almost feel his gaze setting my backside on fire as I'm settling our tab at the counter; I bet it's no different for Leliana. "Well, that was amusing, wasn't it?" I say dryly, like I give handjobs to guys I don't know all the time. Which I do not, honest. Whatever possessed me to do this, I don't really know. If I had to guess, it's partly because I'm a bit of a whore and partly because he was really cute and seemed like he would enjoy something like that.

"I have had a marvellous time of it." The bard smiles at the spectacle George and his friends are making; he is sitting amongst them, blushing like mad, while they cheer and congratulate him. Aw, isn't that cute? It looks like we have all had fun. "Do you think we shall ever see him again?"

"I hope so; he was nice." Not to mention that he bakes a mean chocolate cake. And so the _Gnawed Noble_ is behind us. "Now what shall we do?"

Leliana hums in thought. "Oh, I know!" She snaps her fingers. "I encountered a wonderful park, with the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen." Grabbing a firm hold of my hand, she begins pulling me along. "You will love it! Come."


	193. Painting Denerim Red - Scent-Smelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana takes Astoreth to a park.

### Painting Denerim Red - Scent-Smelling

We only got lost about three times before we finally reached the park. Could've been much worse. Leliana takes a deep breath of the fragrant air. "Isn't it lovely?" It's a good thing the light of the moon is so bright tonight, or going to a park with pretty flowers would have been a complete waste of time. One doesn't usually go around "scent-smelling", you know.

"It is." Apart from the flower scents, I get a clear sense of the herbs that grow here. Parsley. Sage. Rosemary. Thyme. Lovage. Mint. Marjoram. It's all quite overwhelming, but I like it. Herbs were a large part of the Circle's curriculum, because they play such a major role in the concoction of potions and whatnot. Other than that, they also taught us how to make ointments, balms and salves. I could never get the scents and textures right for cosmetics, but Daniela was brilliant at it. The aromas here bring me right back to those moderately good old days. There is one aroma, however, that is more delicate and subdued than all others: the scent of Andraste's Grace. "It smells fantastic here." I bend down to pick a few of the small flowers; during one of our many conversations guarding the camp, Leliana told me how her mother would use these to scent her clothing. Maybe I should throw some herbs into my pack, come to think of it. It certainly couldn't hurt.

"I agree; the smells are amazing." The bard walks around in rapture, sniffing like a hound that has caught the scent of a fox. We are the only ones here, since it is so late. It is now or never. She smiles at my offering. "You remembered! How thoughtful." A fond look for both myself and the little flowers, before she tucks them behind her ear.

Gently I grasp her hand and guide her to a bench. "Sit down with me for a moment."

"You look very serious all of a sudden." Leliana eyes me worriedly. "Is everything all right?" Never taking her eyes off me, she sits down and crosses her legs. Ever the lady.

"Oh yes, of course." Somehow, I feel nervous. Ridiculous. "Look, I just... We've known each other for a while now and well, you've become very precious to me. You've proven yourself to be invaluable in battle and even more as a friend, so this is for you." The words have poured from my mouth as if I'm in an extreme hurry. It's a relief to finally have the heavy book out of my satchel. "Thank you for everything, Leliana."

She stares at her gift in disbelief, mouth opening silently and eyes shining. "Is this really for me?" Hand on the cover, she touches it reverently. "Nobody has ever given me anything like this."

"Yeah, that was kind of the-..." I can't talk, because she is squeezing me so tightly, I can't breathe. Point, is what I was going to say.

"Thank you so much," she whispers into my ear. Her voice is thick with emotion. "This means so much to me, and so do you. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Tears are running down her face when she releases me; I immediately go for my spare hanky. "Aw, Leliana, please don't cry." I gently dab her cheeks. "It's just a book, you know?"

"It is not just any book!" she protests. "Also, that is not the point. It is that you always listen to my ramblings, _really_ listen, not just smile politely and nod off like everyone else. You have always been here when I needed you." Another tear trickles down her face. "I love you so much, my friend."

"Aw, sweetie, I love you too!" Her mood is affecting me too, because my eyes feel wet and I'm getting all sniffly and stuff. "Come here." We hug – a warm, tight embrace that lasts for a while.

Leliana is smiling when we release one another at long last, traces of tears still on her cheeks. "You must let me buy you something too!" She purses her lips in thought. "A jewel, maybe. _Aha_!" she exclaims, snapping her fingers. "I know: a necklace. You already have your rustic bracelet and that ring. All you need is a necklace!"

I like presents, but that's not what I was after, really. "I appreciate the thought, but you don't-..."

"Oh, but I insist!" With great enthusiasm she drags me off the bench. "I have seen a jeweller on the way." A firm grip on my hand, she guides us on again. "I think it was called The Pearl."


	194. Painting Denerim Red - The Pearl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, "The Pearl" isn't a jeweller at all.

### Painting Denerim Red - The Pearl

"You know, this doesn't strike me as a jeweller at all," I remark, rather unnecessarily. Surely no self-respecting jeweller would allow a bunch of drunken, barely clad people in their shop, though that does bring one advantage: no room to conceal stolen goods. "I've never been to a whorehouse, but something tells me this might actually be one."

Leliana, whom I thought would be embarrassed by the sight all around us, surveys the place, utterly unflustered. "I believe you are right." A slight smile, tinged with naughtiness, plays about her lovely lips. "I have not frequented such an establishment in ages." I'm surprised she has ever been to such places at all, frankly. She breaks into a merry laugh, no doubt on account of the dumb, stupefied look on my face. "Darling, I was a bard, remember? I've been... everywhere." Still chuckling, she wraps an arm around my shoulders as we walk to a table in the back and sit down.

"Do tell me more about your work as a bard." I bite my lip; it might be a touchy subject, after all that business with her bitch mentor. "If you don't mind, that is."

"You know how I love to talk." She winks. "Even with how it all ended, well..." For a brief moment, a look of sadness passes over her face. "What's done is done. Without all the nasty things that have happened to me, I wouldn't be where I am today, with you." She leans back in her chair. "And I am enjoying this adventure with you, so really, I should be grateful."

I laugh. "That is one way to look at it." Much better than moping about how everything was better in the past, though, that's for sure. "So... What do you know about whorehouses?" I keep forgetting to ask Zev about his time there. Damn it.

"I once did a stint in a brothel, serving tea." Giggle. "Fun times. People were fornicating all over the place!" She looks around, sighing. "Not like here. These people are quite well-behaved."

"Rules of the house, honey," a sultry voice suddenly says. The speaker is a somewhat older lady with a beautiful face, dressed in a luxurious dress and smiling warmly. "We allow some light petting in the common room, but if you wish to take your delights a little further, you must do it in private." The woman chuckles. "But where are my manners? My name is Sanga and I am the proprietor of the Pearl. Welcome." She makes a broad gesture with both hands. "I see you've already made yourselves comfortable. Tell me what you need, darlings."

Leliana returns Sanga's smile with equal warmth. "Thank you, my dear." The warmth becomes apologetic. "I am unsure whether we shall be requiring the services of your staff; perhaps you could provide us with a bottle of wine?" Surreptitious wink. "And as the night progresses, who knows..."

"Sure, sweetie." The proprietor smiles, unfazed. She must be used to people not really knowing whether or not they want to buy some flesh for a few hours. "As long as you know that every one of my people here is a skilled craftsman and don't let anybody tell you otherwise." She sashays away with the promise of wine. A bottle is soon brought to us by a pretty little elven thing, the tips of her ears peeking through her long, wavy, golden locks. She accepts the money with a sweet smile and a polite curtsy. Sensual eyes the colour of lilac blossoms. I somehow find myself wondering if she might be available.

My friend must've caught me looking at her, because she sends me a meaningful look. "Would you like to have her? I did say I would buy you a gift..." Slowly she pours the wine into the two glasses that came with it. "The memory of a new experience might last you longer than any necklace." Eyebrows raised, the bard appraises me. "Or would it not be a new experience for you?"

"No, it would be; I've never been with a woman." Except for that kiss with Danny, but that doesn't really count. It was only a kiss. "I'd like to try it at least once, though."

"Well, there you go!" Leliana is already making to call Sanga, but I manage to prevent it. "What is it? Are you afraid?" She gives my hand a reassuring little pat. "It is perfectly safe. These people are under constant inspection; if they're diseased, they cannot work. Not to mention that they know very well what they are doing."

I shake my head. "No, that's not it. Maybe it's a bit sentimental of me, but..." Yeah, it's totally sentimental. "I don't know if I want something special like that to be with a stranger. Someone who might do the same thing every day, even."

"A professional does have her merits, but I fully understand you, dearest." Leliana briefly takes in the smell of the wine – to me all wines smell more or less the same – before taking a little sip. "You would rather be with someone you know and trust, no?"

"Exactly." I take a swig of the wine, emptying half of the glass in one go. This elegant, ladylike business isn't my forte at all. No sniffing the wine, commenting about 'a bouquet of blackberries and cherries, with light floral notes.' Ugh, all I smell is fermented grape juice. Maybe one day, when this whole Blight crap is all over, I may take a few lessons in etiquette and such. It would do me some proper good.

When I look back at my companion, she is wearing an enigmatic smile. "Do you trust me, Astoreth?"

"Of course I do." Another swig empties my glass, upon which I refill it. The taste is all right; I would rather have something sweeter without alcohol in it, but beggars can't be choosers. This doesn't look like a place that keeps elderflower cordial in stock. Drunk clients are often horny clients.

"And would you say that you know me?" Leliana is looking at me intently for some reason, toying with her glass.

"Not quite like the back of my hand, but yes, I would say that." A snack would be nice, I think. Some mixed nuts or something. I take another sip, but promptly choke on it when I hear the girl's next question. I must have heard it wrong. "What was that?"


	195. Painting Denerim Red - The Art of Making Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana has an interesting proposition for Astoreth.

### Painting Denerim Red - The Art of Making Love

Suddenly all other noises in the place seem to die down and the scraping of Leliana's chair legs as she scoots closer to me rises above the din. "I said," she murmurs close to my ear, "that perhaps you might trust and know me enough to let me initiate you into the art of making love to woman."

"I, I uh..." This is not what I had expected at all. Blood rushes to my face, making it hotter than it's ever been. "You mean you have done that before?" I'm just stalling for time. Of course I'd love to be with her; it's still a bit... Awkward. I'm a complete newbie to that art, after all.

"Oh, yes." Her fingertips glide up and down my forearm, leaving a tingling sensation and goose bumps in their wake. "In fact, I prefer it to being with a man." She touches her lips to my ear, then closes them around the lobe. Nibbles at it. Sweet Maker. "I would love to give you an experience you will never forget, little one."

Now's not the time to get all shy. "You know what, beautiful, I think that is a marvellous idea."

This response elicits a smile from my lovely companion as she comes closer, leaving only a hair's breadth between us. That distance is mine to close. Our lips touch; it feels as if I'm floating; lightning shoots down my spine. Her hands cup my face, the elegant fingers caressing me softly. I'm liking this already. My own hands end up on her knees, my fingers stroking the bare skin of her thighs. Just as silky as I imagined.

I open my mouth, only slightly, as a silent invitation for Leliana. She doesn't disappoint. Her tongue curls around mine and urges me to come and play. We both show great enthusiasm for this game. Finally. I've wanted her for such a long time. If her earlier words are anything to go by, she must know all there is to know about making love to a woman. Just as I want to move a bit closer to her, to pull her torso flush with my own, I hear some stumbling and masculine giggles right beside me. It rudely reminds me that there are other people in the world besides the two of us. Not long after, a heavy body lands across my lap.

"Whoops," the clumsy man says. "Sorry about that, ladies." The voice makes my heart skip a beat, while the face only rings a tiny bell in the back of my mind. "Hey!" His eyes lights up. "If it isn't my favourite mystery orphan!" Anders, if I remember the name correctly, sits himself on my lap like he's a little boy. Which, trust me, he is not. "What are you doing here?"

"Funny story, that." I'm rather miffed that he interrupted my tender moment with Leliana there, but she only seems amused at my fellow mage's drunkenness. "We thought this was a jeweller."

He shrugs, scrunching his face in a comical expression. "I guess that's a mistake easily made." Manly giggle. "Do you know what they mean by pearl, though?"

"One of those pretty things one finds in oysters?"

"He is referring to the clitoris," Leliana whispers loudly. Her eyes promise me that she will be getting to _my_ pearl later tonight. Mmm, I can't wait.

Anders pouts and says in a whine: "Aw, I was going to say that!" Then his face becomes bright with glee. "I'll say it anyway. Clitoris!" That was loud. Some random guy hears the shout and raises his tankard, repeating the word. "Yeah, everybody loves those..." The mage chuckles. Out of the damn blue, he grabs my head with both hands and plants a loud, wet smacker on my forehead. "I love you, mystery orphan!" He is a most affectionate drunk. And drunk he must be, because he smells like a brewery.

"And what about me?" asks Leliana, innocently blinking those beautiful eyes. "Is there no one who will show me some love?" Yes, I will! If I ever get the fucking chance.

"I love you as well, er..." My fellow mage scratches his head. "Foxy lady!" he finally decides. A weight is lifted from my lap as he moves to embrace my friend. I was going to do that. "Now you may continue making out." Anders stands and smooths down his robes. "I won't keep you from each other any longer. Come see me sometime. I'll be around."

"Sure; see you." I turn to Leliana. "So where were we?"

"I believe we were right here..." Her tongue slides into my mouth once more, her alcoholic sweet taste making me dizzy. The longer this goes on, the more I cannot wait for my lessons. My hands glide higher, under her skirt. The girl moans into my mouth as my fingers brush the sensitive skin high on the inside of her thighs. "Are you sure you've never been with a woman before?" she chuckles against my lips.

My fingers stay where they are, lightly tickling her. "Positive."

"Oh now, my darlings, I wasn't speaking Antivan to you earlier, was I?" Sanga says suddenly, her gentle voice expressing genuine disappointment at our conduct. "I would like your hands where I can see them, please." I look up to see her dark eyes flashing. "Are we clear, darlings?" She is certainly able to show authority. I'm almost afraid.

"Crystal clear." Leliana's answer is as crisp as can be and I, very reluctantly, take my hands off her lovely legs. "Thank you for your hospitality. Come, dearest, let us return." We both rise; for the first time I can see pretty much every pair of eyes in the room is on us. None of them look to be disapproving at all. Anders is even giving us an enthusiastic thumbs up.

A scuffle close to the door draws everyone's attention, including ours. Whoa. A tanned lady with a very bountiful treasure chest is apparently engaged in acrobatics or what have you with a trio of men who have obvious intentions towards harming her. Normally I would rush to her aid, but she doesn't need it. Her motions are lightning-quick. The woman twists, turns and twirls the daggers in her hands, kicking her glorious legs high and low. Cuts and bruises appear on her adversaries as if by magic, that's how fast she is. I would fucking _pay_ to watch this. Mmm, big, bouncing boobies. I would love to just bury my face between those and go nuts. It's a shame this performance doesn't last any longer: the three guys take to their heels all too quickly. Yeah, I guess I wouldn't enjoy having my ass handed to me like that either. "Off with you!" she calls after them. "Be glad that I took from you only your gold." Under her breath: "Heh, fools."

"I've never seen anything like it," Leliana mutters beside me. "Astounding."

"I've never seen boobs that size before either."

She laughingly gives my arm a little slap. "I meant the way she fights, silly! Though I suppose you are quite right about her bosom…" Her lips move closer to my ear once more. "Now then, would you rather stare at this lady or do something else?" There is infinite promise in the emphasis on the last two words.


	196. Painting Denerim Red - Alley Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth and Leliana find they have company.

### Painting Denerim Red - Alley Cats

"Something else, please." I hook my arm around hers and coax my lovely friend out of the all too stern whorehouse. Presumably it would have been a different matter altogether had we become too familiar with the staff. Well, what do I care? The beds in the Pearl could hardly be more comfortable than those at the mansion. Leliana suddenly pulls me away, into a dark, narrow side street. "Hey, where are we going?"

She takes the time to kiss me first, her supple tongue gliding into my mouth almost immediately, before answering: "Nowhere just yet." Even in the almost complete darkness I can see the sparkling of her eyes. "Do you know how long it's been for me?" A naughty, very forward hand creeps between my thighs. "How long it's been since I've tasted pleasure with another?"

"I, uh…" I bite my lip as her fingers brush the fabric of my knickers. "I wouldn't know."

"Suffice it to say, my friend, that it's been far too long." Her wicked smile slowly disappears from my view; I realize why when I feel her tongue flick my clit through my panties.

I have to suppress a cry of surprise. "Leliana!"

"Ah, now that is something I haven't heard for a long time," she mumbles into my flesh. "My name uttered in such a lustful way…" Her hands caress the insides of my thighs as she continues her work. I've never had this done to me before, but it's… Pleasant. Exciting. For a moment those beautiful blue eyes look up at me and she says: "I shall deny myself a pure taste of you for now, but later…" Her eyes narrow as she chuckles very seductively. "Later I shall gorge myself." Her tongue returns to my clit; my climax, usually so quick to announce itself, builds up in a much slower pace. Mmm, this is so good, just revelling in the pleasure she's giving me. I tangle my hands into her russet locks and push her face deeper into my lap. She laughs. "You seem just as starved as I am."

"Well, I, I've always thought you were very beautiful, and uh-…" My climax unleashes itself so suddenly, I am at a loss for words. Only her name falls from my lips over and over again. Mmm... This is entirely new and wonderful. I melt into Leliana's sweet mouth when she kisses me again. "You are amazing."

"So I've been told," she murmurs. "But I shall never be sick of hearing it." Her lips move to my neck, driving me crazy once more. "Well then, my dear... Am I right in suspecting you are attracted to me?" Her tongue darts out and samples my heated skin.

I moan as her deft fingers touch my most sensitive area. "Yes, _yes_!" Her touch leaves me. "Aww..."

"Let's not overload your senses right away." Leliana chuckles. What a tease.

"Oh, don't stop now," an unknown female voice says from just outside the street. "You were doing so well."

I'm unsure how I should feel about this peeping Tom. "And who might you be?"

"Just a weary sailor, looking for some company," replies the woman. She steps into our sight; it's the busty lady from the Pearl. "You girls look like you know fun."

"We were just about to head back home and have lots of it." Our beautiful bard's interest appears to be piqued. Why wouldn't it be, really? This so-called sailor is very sexy. "What is your name, dear?"

The woman smiles. "It's Isabela. And you?" Good grief, she's beautiful. Her eyes have such an unusual colour; they are almost orange. Lovely face, luscious figure... Looks great in that tiny little dress and those thigh-high boots. Awful lot of buckles though.

"I am Leliana and my lovely friend..." A quick kiss on my throat makes me giggle. "Her name is Astoreth."

"Very nice to meet you both." Isabela performs a slight bow that offers a nice peek down her dress. Rawr. "So, have you ladies ever been on a ship? I just so happen to own one. With extremely comfortable captain's quarters." My, how incredibly subtle.

I like the idea. "Nope, never been on one. You're the captain, then?" Now that sounds like an interesting job. Interesting, dangerous and adventurous. Much like being a Grey Warden.

"I am indeed." A mischievous glimmer appears in the lady's hazel eyes. "You know, I could give you a grand tour of my ship." Her smile matches her eyes in naughtiness. "Would you like it before or after I take you girls to bed?"

Leliana laughs incredulously. "How presumptuous! What makes you think we are interested?" I hope she's just playing hard to get, because I am extremely interested in this curvaceous beauty.

"Oh, I saw the way you were looking at me." She tucks a stray curl under her headscarf. "The little one was practically undressing me with her eyes and you were gawping at me with your mouth open."

"I've just never seen breasts that big before." I'm blushing. No idea I was being that obvious.

"You can do more than just see them, sweetness," the captain says with a wink. Well, I'm sold. If Leliana doesn't want this, I'll go along with her though. Friends before… I'll think of some catchy variation on 'bros before hoes' someday I'm sure. Bards before tarts? Hahaaa! No, that's mean. I don't know if Isabela is that much of a tart; though I guess you'd rather have to be one to just randomly approach two people for a tumble.

My friend gives my butt a little squeeze. "Do you want her?" she whispers into my ear.

"Absolutely," I whisper back. "But if you don't-..."

She hushes me with a kiss. "Then you shall have her." Turning to Isabela, she says: "Show us the way to your ship then, darling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might want to skip the following few chapters if you really dislike Isabela.


	197. Painting Denerim Red - A Siren's Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aster gets to see her very first proper ship. Other things happen too.

### Painting Denerim Red - A Siren's Call

So this is a ship. It's large, it's mostly made of wood and it floats. Other than that, I can say nothing of it – besides that the Siren's Call is a lovely name. I know too little of ships. Better than Kester's dingy little rowboat, that's for sure. All I'm interested in are those captain's quarters anyway. They had better be as advertised, or else. Or else I'll still sleep with her, of course. I'm not that attached to comfort; I'm a Grey Warden. Fierce. Hardy. Extremely horny. About to get lucky with two babes. Aw yeah.

"Your ship is impressive," says Leliana with awe in her voice. "And so very large too."

"I like big boats," Isabela replies, grinning. "I cannot lie." Is this a joke of some sort? I don't get it.

And here we are, the captain's quarters. The entrance is hung with heavy silk curtains; they conceal a large room filled with many knick-knacks, but few pieces of furniture. Is that… a chest of gold coins and jewels in the corner? I can't see it all that well, since the only light comes from a lantern that hangs in the hallway. "I like what you've done with the place."

"Thank you!" Isabela smiles, obviously pleased. "I picked up all these cushions at a lovely bazaar in Rivain." There's so many of them, in colours and patterns of all different kinds. I think there is a bed under that particularly large pile over there. "They were a steal." Suddenly she cups my chin in her gloved hand to press a kiss to my lips. "But you didn't come here to talk about my interior decorating skills, now did you?" Her voice is low and sultry.

"No, gorgeous, I came here to have some adult fun." This part is easy. I pull her close to my body – fuck, those tits feel amazing – and kiss her. She allows my tongue to enter her mouth right away. Only now do I feel that she has a small piece of metal through her lower lip. Let's make a mental note to give that a closer look later. Hmm, not a bad kisser at all. "You're going to have to show me some patience though, because I've never been with a woman before." I turn my attention to Leliana, wrapping my dear friend in my arms for a kiss and some choice groping.

Isabela gasps. "A cherry? For me?" She wraps her arms around the both of us. "I knew this was going to be a great night!" Well, someone is excited. "Let me light a few candles."

"That's all right, I can do that." I snap my fingers – for effect, of course – and the many candles in the room, most of them placed in elaborate holders, cast their diffuse light on the room.

"Neat trick," the captain chuckles. She all but snatches Leliana from my arms. "How about we give your little friend a demonstration, red? You are experienced, I'm sure."

The redhead smiles, taking the opportunity to run her hands along Isabela's curvaceous sides. "What an excellent idea." The two share a kiss that nearly lights me on fire. "And yes, I am _very_ experienced." The tone of her voice is so seductive. Their mouths join once more, offering probably the most sensual sight I've ever been privileged to witness. Alistair and Zevran would have loved to see this. My poor Jowan too would have liked this, I think. Fingers deftly open buckles (I thought Leliana's leathers had many, but not compared to the captain), undo buttons and drop various articles of clothing to the floor, while the ladies step out of others. Never ceasing their movements, they shuffle to the bed, fall into a mountain of pillows, laughing between kisses and caresses.

Caramel skin collides with milky skin; the glorious contrast is only enhanced by the candlelight. So beautiful, I can't help but wax lyrical about this. Leliana is graceful and slender, covered in scars that do nothing at all towards making her less beautiful; Isabela is somehow curvy and muscular at the same time. Awe inspiring. Their hands are moving to and fro. I can see gooseflesh forming. Sweet little moans. Let me sit myself at the foot of the bed, so that I might watch them comfortably and closely. "No filthy boots on my bed," the captain mumbles between kisses. Of course, sorry. Finally they release one another, leaving Isabela free to roam Leliana's long neck with her lips and tongue. The bard makes such lovely sounds... Perhaps later I will be able to coax them forth myself. Lick the salt from her skin. From Isabela's skin.

The captain's tanned hand glides down my lovely friend's taut stomach, briefly petting the fiery fur on her mound before disappearing between those gorgeous legs of hers. "Now is the time to start paying attention, sweetness." Isabela beckons me closer. "I'd give you an explanation of what's what, but you know all that, don't you?" She chuckles. "Of course you do." Gently she spreads Leliana's little pink lips and dips a finger in between, which she slips into my mouth. "Tasty?"

I close my eyes and relish the taste. Can't properly describe it. Hint of sweetness, hint of saltiness. Even a hint of acid. Mmm, delicious. "May I have some more?"

"Please." Isabela makes an inviting gesture at the attractive area. "Get in there." There is no need to tell me twice. With my thumbs I keep her inner sanctum bared, fingers resting on the insides of her thighs. What a lovely thing a cunt is, now that I get a proper look at it. Petal-like lips in almost iridescent shades of violet-pink. My tongue comes closer and closer, until the honey leaking from her folds drips onto it. The taste and scent of her are going to drive me crazy.

Up until then, lovely Leliana has been quiet and demure, but not anymore. She grabs two handfuls of my hair and pushes my face deeper. "Please, dearest, make me come," she begs desperately. "I have been without this for too long." Reluctantly I lick my way higher, where there is less juice to be had. Now how did Jowan do this again? He was so good. Slowly and gently does it; I trace a circle around her clit without too much pressure or speed. The resulting moan is encouraging. Quicker and harder I go, meanwhile rubbing my finger at her entrance before sliding it in. She feels so soft, warm and wet around my naughty little digit; her flesh is twitching. Every time I pull out, it feels as if she is trying to suck me back in. Just as my tongue is becoming numb and the muscles in my neck are beginning to ache, Leliana utters that welcome cry of release. Her legs tighten around my neck; her sweet voice turns raw from all the moaning and screaming. This is the best part: the girl is rubbing her pussy against my tongue as if mad. Delicious. Shame I can't see her face though. "You must have done this before," she finally pants, unlocking her legs from around me. Her expression is one of pure bliss.


	198. Painting Denerim Red - All Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more stuff happens here.

### Painting Denerim Red - All Night

"No, never." I lick her from my fingers and try to regain my breath. "I have seriously never done this before." My mouth stretches into a grin of its own accord. "I guess I must be somewhat of a natural, no?"

"Let's forget about the demonstration then." Isabela laughingly pushes me onto the bed, next to the bard, and immediately begins labouring towards getting me out of my gear. "I love your outfit! It's so fancy." She fiddles with the ribbons. "Getting dressed every day must be a pain in the ass for you."

Our beautiful bard seems to have recovered a bit in the meantime, because she rushes to the tanned lady's aid. "Let me help you." All closures give way to her manipulations. "I've had the pleasure of undressing her earlier today," she tells the captain with a conspiratorial wink.

"This must have been your plan all along, you sly fox!" I laugh and try to help them, to find out that I'm only getting in the way. My corset and shrug are already on the floor; the laces on my robes happily succumb to skilled fingers.

"Actually no, it wasn't." Leliana smiles down on me; Isabela swats her hand away as she makes to take off my stockings. They are deemed too sexy to remove. "As you wish, dear," she tells the woman. To me: "I had no way of knowing you shared my tastes. After all, Alistair and Zevran have been keeping you so busy..." A laugh at my surprised face. "Why would I not know about them? I thought I should keep an eye on you, just in case."

Isabela makes a delighted noise."I knew a Zevran once. Very good with a dagger." What are the odds that that is actually our-... My back arches off the mattress when two warm, wet mouths simultaneously close around my nipples. Not only does this feel good, it's also really fucking hot to look down and see two gorgeous women busying themselves with pleasuring you. And then they kiss one another again. Sweet Maker. Have I died? Do I even deserve anything this good? Gentle hands caress my body all over; I close my eyes and just let them do what they apparently do best. Their scene plays on the inside of my eyelids as I feel their exploration of me. Soft lips here, teasing fingers there... I imagine Leliana kissing my stomach and Isabela stroking my thighs; I just lie there and moan and sigh blissfully.

Then just like that, they have left me and frustration begins building in my gut. I prop myself up on my elbows to see what's going on. "Who's going to enjoy her first?" Isabela asks Leliana. "Only room for one down there."

"I don't mind sharing," the bard replies with a smile. Her face dips low, her tongue teasingly licks the inside of my thigh. Agonizingly close to my hungry cunt. "Surely there is room for the both of us, no?"

"Hmm, well..." The captain grins that saucy grin of hers and gets up. "I think I'll just avail myself of her mouth for now." She crawls up to me on all fours, like a sexy feline on the prowl. "Now you get to show _me_ how good you are," she purrs, before taking a seat on my face. Her wet flesh nearly drowns me, but I don't think this would be a very bad way to go. "Oops, sorry." The sexy sailor most graciously allows me to breathe. "Get your cute little butt over here, red." I dip my tongue between Isabela's slick lips; a moan sounds. My friend's tongue finally finds my sensitive spots and I moan myself. How am I expected to do a good job under all this distracting pleasure? Oh well. No reason for me to bitch.

I can feel Leliana shifting while she continues her wonderful treatment of me. Then she moans into my flesh; the wet sopping noises tell me that the captain has put her fingers to good use. Speaking of which... I slide two digits into the busty lady's moist channel and pump them back and forth, never ceasing the movements of my tongue. She tastes different, but just as good. My hands are trembling and my tongue does not quite want to obey the commands I issue it. Leliana is simply too good at what she does. Her fingers are deep inside of me, fucking me with expert skill. Her tongue gives my clit a thorough lashing, making it extremely hard for me not to come right away. It's a good thing I have the captain's sweet pussy to distract me. Her little moans, praise and directions are a delight to my ears. I lick her clit just as she demands me to: quickly and with lots of pressure. Hot as this is, I miss seeing everything that is happening.

Isabela's position is perfect, allowing most of her juices to land right in my mouth. And there's a lot of them. It's exactly that, combined with Leliana's excellent care, which pushes me over the edge. The vibrations of the ecstatic moans that I produce, finish off the captain in turn – at least, I think that is what the sudden flood means. I'm lost in that exquisite feeling of pleasure, that exquisite taste on my tongue. When I finally open my eyes, half-dazed, I find the lovely bard sitting next to me with Isabela's face between her thighs. Naturally it would be unfair to leave her behind. While the captain toils towards bringing my friend the same pleasure we have both already experienced, I seize the girl's breasts. So soft they are and firm, the nipples hard as little diamonds. She gasps as I gently rub my thumbs against them; her gaze shifts to me, a slight smile appearing on her face. Her fingers are tangled into Isabela's curly locks – her hips are making sensual gyrating motions. I continue massaging her pert tits and rolling her nipples between thumbs and forefingers, watching her beautiful face contort all the while.  

It really is a spectacular sight, somebody's face when they come. Leliana is no exception. With her eyes narrowed to slits and her lips lightly parted, she brings forth the most beautiful noises I have ever heard. This week – I mean, you never know with me. Now, however, I cannot resist the urge to kiss her and tell her how spectacular that looked. She rewards me with a hug and a lilting little laugh.

Isabela flops down beside us, contently licking her lips. Her face is red from the exertions. "Whew! I think we deserve a drink after all this." The lady calmly saunters over to a table overflowing with stuff (her hips sway beautifully) to return with a blue bottle. After a few long draughts, she settles herself in the cushions beside me and passes me the drink. Oh, yuck. The stuff is impossibly strong; to me it tastes of nothing but pure alcohol. The captain laughs at the face I'm making. "You're not very used to strong drink, are you?"

"No, not really." I offer the bottle to Leliana, who sniffs the contents and then decides to pass. Life is too short for alcohol poisoning, she says. Her face looks rosy and adorable.

Isabela shrugs, happily accepting her booze back. "More for me then." It is all gone in a matter of moments. The bottle goes flying out the little round window beside the bed – a splash sounds outside. "Now that that is out of the way..." She positions herself between my legs, looking up seductively with those sunset-orange eyes. A gorgeous sight. "I hope you're ready for round two, sweetness, because I want my share of the cherry." Oh, my; the way she claims her share is nothing short of excellent. Her tongue finds the most sensitive part of my clit unerringly; three fingers fill me up; her free hand presses down on my lower abdomen. I gasp as her fingers curl up and rub into that special little place deep inside. The pressure in my belly becomes worse and worse and worse, until finally: release. And how! Isabela giggles like a child. "Look at this fountain!" I can hear her say from somewhere beyond the ball of yarn my brain has turned into.

Leliana makes a surprised little sound. "I have never... You never cease to astonish me, my friend." She joins Isabela in licking the fluid from my thighs. So insanely hot. From the way those two are looking at one another and exchanging sensual kisses from time to time, methinks this might go on all night. Mmm... Perfect.


	199. Painting Denerim Red - Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ladies manage to get some talk in between all the lesbionics.

### Painting Denerim Red - Pillow Talk

"Oh, this old thing?" The captain thoughtfully taps the golden sphere under her lower lip. "Funny story, that." She laughs. "The crew and I had gone drinking in Llomerryn several years ago-..."

"Excuse me." I know it's rude to interrupt, but I have to. "Where is this Llomerryn? I know absolutely nothing of it, I'm afraid."

Isabela raises an eyebrow. "How can you not know? I thought you'd at least have been taught basic history." And here I thought I knew a tiny bit about history.

"Llomerryn is known for being the location in which the Llomerryn Accords were signed," Leliana says sagely. "That was what finally ended the Qunari Wars and the Exalted Marches, you know." She takes a sip from another bottle Isabela has conjured up, filled with a lemonade of some kind. This one she would have nothing to do with. "Nowadays the city is much loved by pirates and criminals."

I take the bottle from my friend. Ah, this is good stuff. Isabela called me crazy for being so fond of 'glorified sugar water'. At least it won't make my liver explode. "Now I'll never forget it, thank you. Do go on with your story."

"Right. Well, many, many drinks later I woke up in my cabin with a splitting headache and a throbbing mouth." A merry laugh rolls from her lips. "My chin was covered in dry blood and my lip was twice the regular size, but I thought the stud looked rather nice." She shrugs. "So I kept it. And to this day I still haven't the foggiest who gave me this."

"It's very pretty." So unusual too. I've never seen anybody else adorned in this way.

The captain fondly kisses my cheek. "Thank you! You are such lovely people." She winks at Leliana. "I am so glad I decided to proposition you."

"As are we!" The bard snuggles up to our new friend. After several hours of wonderful lovemaking, we have become quite close. I do not quite know why though, but I feel anxious. My guess is that I'm too attached to having a nice stiff one in me and will never be satisfied by female-only sexy times. Good to know. One learns something new every day. "I have truly missed physical intimacy," Leliana purrs to the captain. They look so beautiful together. No doubt watching them would make my itch even worse. Perhaps I should return. "Are you all right, Astoreth?" my friends asks, her forehead furrowed with worry. "You seem pensive."

"Oh yes, I'm fine." Now then, how can I politely weasel myself out of here? "I'm just thinking that we might be needed back at the arl's. All this random shit happening has made me all paranoid." It's true, though. I keep expecting people to show up and send us on errands.

Leliana languidly strokes Isabela's round hip. "I can imagine – hardly a day has gone by without some quest of epic proportions, no?" She clicks her tongue. "Such a shame. I am rather enjoying myself."

"You should stay, Leliana." I give her thigh a friendly little pat. "You work hard. You deserve to relax once in a while."

"You really don't mind?" Smiling happily, the bard gives me a brief hug. "That is so dear of you!"

The captain raises an eyebrow. "I am not letting you go out alone in the middle of the night."

"Oh, I'll be fine." I fish my clothes out of the pile on the floor and leisurely get dressed. Who shall I bother tonight? Zevran, I think. Alistair's been taking care of me all afternoon. Now it is my sweet elf's turn. Hope he's available. "I'm pretty used to danger by now."

"You don't know the riffraff that prowls around Denerim at this time of night, sweetness." Wistfully releasing Leliana, she hangs her head out of the little window. " _Casivir_!" she yells, loud enough to wake the dead. A vague male voice replies. "Escort my guest to her home, would you? Thanks."

Home. Huh, I don't really have one. No matter. "Isabela, I will be all right." I roll my eyes. "I can set shit on fire with my mind." Heavy footsteps down the hall. They halt before the curtain.

"I know that, but still." She smiles, one tanned hand absently caressing Leliana's arm. "I would be heartbroken if you did get hurt."

"If you put it like that…" As if I've known her intimately for years, I kiss the sexy sailor on the lips. After all the places my mouth has been, it feels very natural. "Thank you for your concern." Leliana happily accepts a kiss as well and then I'm out the door. Wow. I have hardly turned my back on those two and they are at it again. I'm glad Leliana is having so much fun. She really deserves it.


	200. Painting Denerim Red - Unexpected Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth finds somebody in her bed.

### Painting Denerim Red - Unexpected Company

Ah, there we are, back again. My body is crying out for a man's touch like nobody's business. It even kept me from holding a proper conversation with my babysitter. Not that he was all that talkative, mind you. Ah, well. I hope _he_ doesn't get assaulted on his way back. Zev, Zev, Zev… I'm going to wear you out. Shit, but what if he's with Virgil now? Blondie will have to move over, that's what.

I'd better get out of these damn robes first. It's true: they are a massive pain in the ass. Finally, my room. What else can I wear? Hmm. Stubbs isn't here. Probably in Alistair's room. Glad they've kept a fire burning for me. It's a cold night. All right, I know: sneak to Zev's room in his shirt, take robes along for next morning. Yes. I've just pulled the shirt over my head, when a familiar voice speaks from my bed: "There you are! I was beginning to worry." The words are hopelessly slurred.

"Morrigan?" This is just weird. "I'm pretty sure your room is a few doors down. Also, why are you still this drunk?" Even in this light I can tell she's not her usual self. There is a goofy smile on her face that I have never seen before and never thought I would see.

She giggles. "Oh, well, you know how the old cat is always going on and on about Oghren's brew…" Another giggle. "So I tried some. And I hate to admit it, but she is right." Morrigan licks her lips. "'Tis exceedingly delicious. I may have even imbibed a mite too much." She holds up her right hand and indicates a tiny amount with thumb and forefinger. "Juuust a mite."

I shrug. "All right, fair enough. Maybe I should try some myself, what do you think?" Everybody is making that stuff sound so interesting.

"Cuddle me!" she suddenly cries out. "I have been insufficiently cuddled as a child!" Her arms are invitingly open. Oh, one cuddle can't hurt, surely. Silly drunken people. She happily moves over when I slide into bed with her. Almost purring like a kitten, she nestles herself in my arms. Never thought I'd see the day. "Just as I had imagined." This is so endearing… Morrigan is almost like a little girl, the way she clings to me. "Goodnight, my friend."

Guess I'm not going anywhere tonight. Oh well. I'll still be horny tomorrow. Surely a friend in need is more important than my inconsequent physical wants? Softly I stroke her hair and press a sisterly peck on her cheek. "Goodnight, Morrigan." Asleep already. Hope I can get there too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Bet that wasn't what you were thinking of. This concludes this portion of the adventures of Astoreth and co. Tune in at an unspecified late date for more - unless it already happens to be there by the time you read this, of course.


	201. Howe's Estate - A Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth can't sleep and so decides to roam the halls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas.

### Howe's Estate - A Lesson

Rough night. Not a whole lot of sleep to be had. I keep thinking about Leliana and Isabela making sweet, sweet love to one another. That would be enough to keep drowsiness away from the coldest of people, I'm sure, let alone from me. Dear Maker, what a sight. And now I'm lying here with the beautiful Morrigan. She is also very attractive. Still, I guess sleeping with only women (even if they've showered me with attention and orgasms) will never give me that delightful sleepy feeling after sex with a man. Wish I'd had the foresight of bringing my toy with me. I bet that would have been a great hit with the ladies. If only I could use it now. Softly I stroke the witch's bare arm. She smiles in her sleep. A lovely thing to see. More of a smile on those voluptuous crimson lips would no doubt make her more popular. She knows this too, surely; I'm also sure she will use this little fact to her advantage whenever needed.

Let's see if I can get away from here. Morrigan allows me to gently lay her down, upon which she promptly tangles herself into the blankets. Guess she's all set then. Now for myself. Shale has been kind enough to dump my share of the bags in a corner, I've only just noticed; I quickly find the one containing my new nighties. Which one shall I wear? The sexy little red number? The blue one? The slinky green dress with the big black bow? The black one Leliana found too sombre, but that I had to have anyway? Zev probably doesn't care what I have on. You know, it just occurred to me that even after all this shopping, I still managed to forget to pick up a cloak. Well, shit.

I'll go for the green one then. It's very flattering and not all too slutty. The arlessa would probably still throw a fit if she saw me walking the halls like this, but the arl decided to leave her in Redcliffe. Thank goodness for that. I need more whining like I need a broken control rod up the arse. I quietly close the door behind me, off to sneak to my sweet elf's room. Brr, do the stones ever feel cold against my feet. Just awful. Well, would you look at that? Guess I'm not the only one having trouble sleeping. "Morning, Sten."

" _Kadan_." His piercing violet eyes look me up and down. "What did I tell you about watching the way you carry yourself?" He takes a step closer to me, a certain menacing quality to his posture. "Will you never learn?"

"Uhm, I suppose not?" I don't see what the problem is. If I want to walk around like this, it is my own damned business. "Look, it's really none of-..."

The man backs me up against the wall; he is awfully close now. "Then I suppose I will have to teach you myself." Suddenly I feel very cold, because my lovely new nightgown has been torn to tatters.

"What the _fuck_! I just bought that thing!" Irrational much?

"Quiet," the Qunari growls, clapping his hand over my mouth. Without ceremony of any kind, he picks me up and hoists me over his shoulder; I'm too bloody stunned to do anything. Before long, I find myself being dumped onto a bed. "This is for your own good, _kadan_." The giant looms over me as he pries my legs apart with his knee. I'm just about to protest, but then his hand is back over my mouth. A whimper exits my throat as his free hand find its way to my wetness, coating his fingers in it. "Don't you see that this is what will happen if you continue dressing the way you do?" A thick finger takes possession of me. Mmm... I fail to see the issue here, personally. Who scratches my itch matters very little to me. His lips move closer to my ear, while he begins fucking me with his finger. Well, too. "Are you going to scream, _kadan_?" I shake my head and my mouth is free again.

Perhaps I should say something, but I want to do nothing but moan and enjoy myself. "So," I finally manage to pant. "What if this is exactly what I want to happen?" I just want a nice, stiff cock in me, is all. Nothing wrong with that, is there? Even better if it's attached to an exotic creature like our stalwart warrior. Strange, but not entirely unexpected. He did show me his tender side of his very own accord, after all. Seems he likes more than only kittens and flowers. I'm going to thoroughly enjoy him. And then brag to Morrigan about it.

Sten pulls me up, hands under my shoulders. "Then I will have to change tactics." Those strong hands coax me onto my knees. Oh, my... Looks like he's already taken the trouble of whipping out his tool for me. And such a big one it is; goes so well with the rest of him. I lay my hand on him, feeling the hulking beast of a thing quiver. "Open wide," the giant demands. His voice betrays nothing, but the slight hoarseness that has crept in, oh, that certainly does.

"As if I could ever fit you in my mouth." Slowly I run my hand up his length; I can't even encircle it and there seems to be no end to him. Hmm... This reminds me of that dream I once had. I was afraid of his size then, but really, if I can survive childbirth, I can certainly survive being skewered to his cock. I rather enjoy a challenge.

"You have two hands and a tongue, _kadan_." The Qunari utters a slight groan. "Use them."

Slowly I swirl my tongue around the very tip, bringing forth another groan. "I can be very creative, I will have you know." I look up to see a flushed face, which is very promising. Seeing how stoic he always is, this is really the most a girl can hope for. How much would I be able to fit in my mouth? Hardly anything, but he seems to enjoy it anyway. Sucking, licking and nibbling whatever bits I can reach, my hands – this really is a two-hand job – firmly massage his thick shaft. Ah, this is what I've been lacking all night. I am almost purring with delight as I run my tongue along his rigid flesh.

"Enough of this." He lays me down again, placing himself between my legs. Well, well... I wonder where this will lead. Yeah, as if I don't know. Rubbing the head of his cock between my slick lips, the man asks: "Is this truly what you want, _kadan_?"

I wrap my arms around his powerful neck and rest my head in the slope of his shoulder. "Yes, take me," I whisper against his heated skin. "Please."

"If that is your wish." Slowly but surely he stretches me, fills me. Sweet Maker, this is good. There is some pain, which is to be expected, but nothing I can't handle. "I get the distinct feeling, _kadan_ , that you are not learning anything from this." His voice is breathless. Other than that, nothing.

"If anything, you've just taught me I need an ample supply of seductive nightgowns." Then suddenly he pulls out of me, pushes back in again and I couldn't speak if my life depended on it. The friction is insane! So deep... I mewl delightedly as Sten continues his lesson. Oh yes, this'll teach me... This will teach me very well. My nails rake down his shoulder blades as he pumps into me with mercilessly hard strokes. Mmm, I do love a good hard pounding.

Suddenly I hear an impatient tongue clicking beside me. I open my eyes and lo! There is Morrigan sitting beside me on the bed, with an agitated look on her beautiful face. "Do hurry it up, Astoreth." She sighs in exasperation. "'Tis my turn next..."

"Do not mind me." Leliana has appeared too, quill and parchment in hand. "I am merely here to observe." The redhead turns to Morrigan. "How would you describe his size then?"

The witch nods confidently. "Hung like a bronto!"

Wynne pops up as well – why not – conspicuously holding up needle and thread. "I am ready to stitch up whoever needs it!" She shoots me a disparaging look. "Not you, Astoreth, you must be like a cavern down there."

"Why, thank you, old cat." Morrigan smiles sweetly at the old lady. "You are so considerate." Her lean arms reach out to Wynne, pull her into an embrace. Before long, the women are kissing each other with intense passion.

Leliana furiously scribbles on her parchment, eyebrows knitted together. "Fascinating…"

Sten, meanwhile, lets out an appreciative whistle. "Nice!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, geez, another dream. What a surprise.


	202. Howe's Estate - Another One of Those

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All dreams must come to an end. What better to wake up to than Morrigan?

### Howe's Estate - Another One of Those

Another one of those batty dreams. Ugh. The second one revolving around good old Sten. I must be fucking crazy to want him so much. Also, why must they always end so bizarrely? A slight chuckle in my ear tells me that Morrigan knows exactly what ails me. "You must have been having a wonderful dream, my friend."

"Yes and no." I rub my eyes and yawn. "This is the second sex dream I've had about Sten." I think I'll just leave out the part where she starts making out with Wynne. Maker's mercy, what is wrong with me? Maybe I should be carted off to some institution for the magically insane.

"Why is this the first time I have heard of this?" She lightly slaps my arm. "Do tell." Despite the previous night's drunkenness, she looks fresh as a daisy and wide awake. Maybe she wasn't as drunk as I thought, just really in need of a cuddle.

I groan. This is ridiculous; I should do something about this aching feeling. "Why? They're only dreams…" Meaningless. Not entirely so, of course. "And besides, I need to get laid."

"Because I am curious." Morrigan sighs, watching me jump out of bed. "I realize 'tis none of my concern, but is this truly wise?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" Ha, imagine me walking into Sten on the way to Zevran and my dreams coming true… Impossible. If he isn't interested in a lovely woman like Morrigan, he certainly won't be interested in me. Perhaps I remind him of someone. A child? Might be. He could have a dozen little tykes running around in his homeland, for all I know. Would a Qunari toddler be as tall as I am?

"I know you favour both Alistair and Zevran with your attentions."

I look back at the lady who has just uttered that statement in the blankest tone of voice. It's no use denying, obviously. "How'd you find out?"

"Oh, 'tis quite amazing how many things one hears and sees, disguised as a cat." She chuckles and flops onto her back, looking at me upside-down. "I mean to say that they might not be willing to share you for much longer." Her golden eyes regard with me with genuine concern. It doesn't even let up when I hold up my two favourite new nightgowns and she gets to pick one out for me. Red it is, then.

"I appreciate your concern, Morrigan, but I can't choose between those two." I'd been thinking about it, but I just can't seem to reach a conclusion. Both are amazing. I want my cake and eat it too. Preferably off one or both of them. Mmm. Now there's a thought. "I simply can't."

She grins bare those pearly white teeth. "That I can fully understand. Hopefully, they will too." With a cat-like expression on her face, the girl stretches her body luxuriously. Upon which her breasts fall from her top; that was bound to happen at some point. Mrrrrow, nice. Very nice. She readjusts the crimson fabric, wholly unconcerned. "Alistair is most likely to be unforgiving."

"That'll be the Chantry boy in him." Man, are those lovely. I'd like to cover them with little kisses, which she would probably not welcome. Never mind then. "You could stick around for a while and then I'll tell you all about my dreams when I return." Dreamy sigh… "Maybe I'll even tell you about how I slept with Leliana last night." Astoreth, you ninny! I was not supposed to say that at all. What must she think of me? Leliana, I mean. This is awfully rude of me. You'd think that after years of being teased by Daniela not wanting to kiss and tell, I might follow that example. Nope.

Morrigan gasps. "You did not!" Far from disgusted, as I had half expected her to be, she only seems surprised and curious. That is something, at least.

"I most certainly did." Ah, another memory to cherish forever. It might even happen again. I enjoyed the threesome, but somehow, it didn't feel quite as intimate as it should have. Hot, yes. Insanely so. Not very romantic at all. When did I become such a starry-eyed maiden? Guess I just enjoy romance and tenderness. And cocks. Let's not forget those. "With her and this woman we picked up near a brothel." Extremely unromantic and not a cock in sight.

The witch's nose wrinkles in disdain. "Do make sure you have not caught any diseases." Then curiosity seems to get the better of her anyway. Her eyes sparkle. "Tell me of your adventures, if you would."

"Stick around…" With a teasing wave, I walk out of the room. My, if looks could kill. Good for her they don't, because then she would never hear my stories.


	203. Howe's Estate - A Delightful Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contrary to the Dragon Age game of the same name, this awakening is kind of sexy.

### Howe's Estate - A Delightful Awakening

Now, which one is my enticing Antivan's room again? Here we are. The door opens very silently; they must keep the hinges well-oiled. The elf is all by himself. Quite surprising, but you won't hear me complain. This is going to be a wake-up call he will enjoy.

Somehow I manage to crawl under his covers without waking him. His delicious scent is overwhelming here. Let's kick things off by covering his gorgeous stomach with kisses. Firm, but his skin feels so soft and smooth. Warm. Zevran, meanwhile, snorts in his sleep and still does not awaken. Some Crow he is… I pull down his silky smalls until they are bunched around his knees. Aww, how cute! He's still small; never seen him like that before. One row of soft kisses down the length of him and his shaft lazily thickens under my lips. The confused noises he is making tell me that Zev is about to wake up. "Good morning, crumpet." A full-blown moan sounds as I run my tongue up his now very hard cock.

"Oh, good morning," the elf purrs in a drowsy voice. "What a wonderful surprise, _fiammina_." His elegant fingers tangle into my hair, his hands insistently urging me to take him deeper into my mouth. Happily. Twisting and twining my tongue around his shaft, I glide up and down. This has to be my favourite hobby. Such wonderful sounds one gets to hear. Praise too. I'm still a sucker for praise as ever. Maybe it's time for me to update my repertoire and garner even more. Massaging his rod with my left hand, I thoroughly moisten the index finger of my right. Zevran utters a little squeal at the intrusion. That went very smoothly. "You truly aim to please, no?" He chuckles in amusement.

"Always!" I confidently tell him before attacking his cock with my mouth once more. His muscles rhythmically contract around my finger while I move it back and forth. How pleasant it feels in here… Velvety and snug. No wonder Virgil is so fond of this. If I had a cock, I would undoubtedly be too. I look up to see the lovely elf propped up on his elbows and watching me intently. Between the moaning and the panting, he is grinning from ear to ear. Now that is something I like to see. We continue looking at one another; when the tell-tale throbbing begins and Zev squeezes his eyes shut, I am still staring at him. Maker's breath, how beautiful. Not even a generous helping of cum down my throat beats the sight of a gorgeous man enjoying his climax. His body relaxes and he falls into his pillows with a long, content sigh. "So, how was that?" I climb up to wrap the elf in my arms.

Naturally, he lays his head in my bosom right away. Hurt because Wynne would not allow it, of course. I understand. "You have a gift, _fiammina_." Zevran snuggles up to me. "I think you deserve a reward for this."

"Oh?" I wiggle my eyebrows. "What did you have in mind?" There are a few things that I can think of.

"Allow me some time to recover my basic functions," my handsome companion laughs. "I have not been pleasured in such a mind-meltingly amazing way in a long time." Suddenly he perks up. "Why, my lovely, lovely Warden…" His hands glide down my satin-covered sides. "I do so adore what you are wearing." Aaaaand we're back. Softly those voluptuous lips press urgent kisses down the side of my neck, his hands slipping into my dress. My nipples harden under his skilled touch and a low moan escapes me. This reminds me of my wonderful time last night; I will never forget it, no matter how frustrated a state it left me in. Another one for the old memoires. Zev's lips quickly follow his hands, covering my breasts with licks and kisses. Lovely, but not what I was waiting for. I push him lower; laughingly he obeys my unspoken command. Not without teasing, I might add. He can be so very mean sometimes. His fingers lightly caress the insides of my thighs, his lips lingering on my belly.

"Zev…" No response at all he makes, save a wicked little laugh. "Don't be so cruel."

His liquid honey eyes glow up at me from under the covers. "Cruel, me? Tell me what you would like me to do, then, my sweet Warden." The naughtiness is practically dripping from his every word.

"Blow my mind with your tongue again."

He sits up and clears his throat. "The symphony I see in thee, it whispers songs to me." What in Thedas is _this_? "Songs of hot breath upon my neck." The man recites this crap with an air of supreme seriousness. "Songs of soft sighs by my head, songs of nails upon my back." Oh, man. "Songs of thee come to my bed." He looks at me as if he expects an applause. "Well, has your mind been blown?"

"That was fucking awful!" I burst out laughing. "Did you compose that yourself?" Though I'm not sure if composing is the right word for it.

"Oh, no, this was recited to me by a rather wealthy target of mine." Zevran joins in the laughter. "I cannot believe she thought this garbage would convince me to spare her." The hilarity soon dies down, the smouldering back in his pretty eyes. He covers my body with his and makes me swallow my chuckles. One hand slips into my knickers; his teeth close around my earlobe. "Tell me what you would like me to do, _fiammina_ ," he whispers heatedly into my ear. Two fingers buried deep inside of me, his thumb teases my clit. No wonder I can't speak. "What is the matter?" His voice is full of mischief. "Cat got your tongue?" All I can do is moan helplessly under his mind-blowing ministrations. It's not a cat that has got my tongue, no… Either I am extremely sensitive or he is very good, because it takes very little time to begin writhing and wriggling in ecstasy. Sweet Andraste… My mind goes fuzzy – I am all goose flesh and sensitive nerves.

While the climactic waves are still ebbing away, the lovely elf positions himself between my thighs and smoothly enters. His rapid, powerful thrusts make me feel as if my orgasm is being prolonged and dragged out. Deliciously so. I wrap my legs around his waist, screaming his name. This place has thick walls, thankfully. I can be as loud as I bloody well want to, so I tell him to go harder and faster. To be rough with me. How spectacularly he complies… Somehow I find myself on my stomach with that gorgeous cock in me, his hand roughly pulling my hair as he fucks me mercilessly. The growled Antivan phrases in my ear only make me wetter, make the muscles of my cunt twitch like crazy. And then, something entirely new to me: Zev's fingers snake around my throat, softly squeezing. Is it normal for me to find this so hot? The slight difficulty in breathing doesn't bother me at all. My moans become choked as his grip tightens.

That familiar twitch sets in, accompanied by a breathless announcement of his impending finish. I help that wonderful, wonderful creature along by milking him for all he's got. "Mmm, Zev…" I roll onto my back with a happy sigh. "Have I told you that you are a god in the bedroom?"

"Do go on," the elf laughs happily. "Tell me more about how good I am." He eyes me with slight concern. "Was I too rough?"

"You were just rough enough," I reply, smoothing my tousled hair. Ah... I feel fantastic. "Thank you very much."

Zevran treats me to another one of those deep, sensual kisses of his. "Thank _you_."

"My pleasure." My pleasure indeed. Good grief. The man is a veritable repository of delicious sexual techniques. I nestle into his arms, feeling delightfully sluggish and heavy with contentment. This is exactly what I needed.

"I was unaware such lovely garments were made by your people," he chuckles lazily, running his fingertips over my side. "You look ravishing."

I blush, even though it's not the first time he has paid me such compliments. "Thank you... You're right though, these weren't exactly selling like hotcakes."

"Fereldan ladies are too practical to enjoy such things, I think." Softly he presses an affectionate kiss to my cheek. "I am pleased that you are not, however."

"I'm a mage, Zev, we don't do practical." Going into battle covered in only cloth is not a brilliant idea, after all. Enchantments can only do so much. "Short skirts, tight robes, living in towers, messing with the elements..." The list goes on and on.

His hand glides down the side of my thigh. "But no high heels."

"Never! Leliana had me try on a pair yesterday and I fell flat on my face."

I can see that my sweet companion is trying not to burst out laughing, but he fails despite his best efforts. That's all right. It was pretty funny. "I realize it is rude of me to laugh at your expense, _fiammina_ ," he hiccups. "But the image..." Tears stream from his eyes as he snorts loudly.

"Shale was amused too." I chuckle mildly. It's not _that_ funny. "Imagine, we are having a pair of shoes custom made for her."

"A golem!" Zevran roars with laughter. "Wearing shoes!" He is shaking so violently, the poor slob falls out of bed. From the floor, the merriment continues. "Oh, I am going to _die_..."

I peek over the side of the bed. "Please don't." No danger there, I think. He is just lying there butt-ass-naked and giggling like a loon. "Get back up here, you. I don't want you to catch a cold."

"I can't!" The elf flops about like a fish out of water. Guess there is nothing else for it. With pillows and blankets, I simply join him on the floor. The stones are rather chilly, courtesy of the lack of fire in the hearth. No matter. We are good at warming each other up. Still giggling, my friend allows me to lay a pillow under his head and a blanket half under, half over his body. His glee does not last much longer as I press my lips to his and straddle his loins. Easily and quickly I rub him back to full hardness. That sublime cock finds a warm, wet home in my eager sheath. I begin riding him – gently at first – coaxing forth the most beautiful moans. And here I thought I was satisfied.

My pace and force pick up; a filthy squelch sounds every time he is fully buried inside. His rod hits me deliciously deeply. In fact, his shape and size are perfect for reaching that certain spot. I'm still not quite sure what it is, but I fucking love it. The pressure in my gut is so intense, it hurts. One final push and I'm there. Ripples of a kind of insane euphoria race through my body as I once again scream his name, hot liquid erupting all over his stomach. My partner joins me in climax; he whimpers rather adorably. _Now_ I'm satisfied. I collapse on his panting frame, covering his face with little kisses. "Now this is a good morning."

"Mmm, I'll say." Zevran curls up to me, his eyes half closed in that typical way of his. "You know, the ladies in the whorehouse who could climax as spectacularly as you do, raked in great amounts of money with their shows." He laughs. "Sometimes even enough to retire from the trade altogether."

"Oh, I see…" I yawn. "I'll remember that for when I'm ready for a career change." And to think that I have him to thank for my new experiences. Before returning to Ostagar, I'd never even heard of it. I was so determined not to sleep with him too. Goes to show how much willpower I have. Still, I am enjoying myself and life is short enough as it is. More than a year since my Joining. Less than twenty-nine more to go. How time flies.

I find my companion looking at me intently. "Tell me something, Warden."

"What?" It feels weird when he calls me that. I've become so used to all the pet names.

A saucy grin appears on his face. "How does Alistair compare to me?"

Well, fuck. Of course he knew – I mean, who _else_ would I be sleeping with? – but I never thought he would just come out and ask such a question. How could I possibly deny my escapades with Al? "I'm not sure..." I show him my sweetest smile. "You both have your charms."

"You would make a good politician." Zev shrugs. "Very well, I understand. I am in no position to claim your attentions all to myself." He drapes an arm around my shoulders. "I have not been exclusively with you, after all." His beautiful amber eyes are heavy-lidded.

"I don't expect you to be." I stretch, a wonderful feeling of fatigue in my limbs. "That would mean I couldn't be with Al." That would be such a shame. He's a wonderful person.

My lovely partner chuckles. "I was wondering why he was so cheerful all of a sudden. Rather a gloomy personage that one, no?"

"He has a lot of stuff going on." I shake my head. Snap out of it! This is not the time to go back to sleep. "I think I'll go take a bath. Care to join me?"

"I think I need a lie down after all that." Zevran folds his hands under his head, eyes closed. "I will see you at breakfast." He smiles when I kiss his cheek, frowns when I call him my sweet little crumpet. "I am not a pocked pastry," he huffs.

"Nope, but you are delicious." Another kiss. "See you later, crumpet."


	204. Howe's Estate - A Bath Time Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will our heroine finally enjoy a bath all by herself? Without any sex? At all?

### Howe's Estate - A Bath Time Miracle

Morrigan isn't in my room anymore. I guess she got sick of waiting. How long have I been away, anyway? Never mind that. At least I am fully satisfied. I think. It's like with food: I don't have to be very hungry to eat. Now then… Shall I roam the halls dressed in nothing but this tiny little towel? I better not. What would I do without Cullen's old shirt? A bigger towel might be a good idea. And a cloak. Perhaps after the Landsmeet; I doubt we'll have many opportunities for mindless shopping in the time to come. I still haven't the foggiest what is going to happen there, though I suppose if Alistair wants Queen Anora to stay on the throne, we could help her. It's his party.

It's still really fucking cold around here. Let's add a pair of warm, fuzzy slippers to that list of necessities. Maybe a decent nightgown without any repairs that hides the fact that I'm a wanton strumpet as well. Heh, strumpet. I love that word.

Nobody in the bathroom. I had actually expected to find other people here, but it looks like I'm lucky. Privacy for a change! My goodness, will these miracles never cease? It seems a bit much, drawing such an enormous bath for only one person, but hey... There isn't any other option, actually. It's the big bath or no bath at all. And I like big baths; I cannot lie. Such decadence. A few bubbles and a drop or two of my new, deliciously fragrant strawberry oil and we are good to go. The water is almost too hot to bear. My skin turns pink from the heat, but I get used to it quickly. What a delight this is. I must benefit from these luxuries while I can. On the road we don't get many hot baths to look forward to; a rubdown of some crucial areas with cold water is usually it. Mmm... I lie back and close my eyes.

Oh, Maker's breath, I must have fallen asleep. The water is bloody cold now, the bubbles all gone. I look like an old prune too. Marvellous. Let's hope I don't catch a cold. I'd rather expected Alistair to find me in here and sexy times to ensue. Or Morrigan and a chat about my dreams and adventures. How disappointing. How boring! My life isn't always like a dirty novel. I drain the bath and jump out. Bah, humbug. Never again. I'm in the act of towelling myself off as Sten walks in. Just in time to not see me naked. Whew. "Hello." Heh, I like what he's wearing. Which isn't very much. No wonder I would like to try him out. It's his own damned fault, is what it is.

"Good morning, _kadan_." He peeks into the bath. "It would seem that I have bad timing."

"Not at all." I slip my nightie over my head for good measure. "The water had become cold anyway. I'll run you a fresh one, if you like."

Sten shakes his head. "Do not bother yourself on my account."

"It's no trouble at all." He doesn't protest any further, so I help him out. "Would you like bubbles with that?" I ask the man, holding up the vial that contains the magic liquid. He abruptly looks away when my gaze falls on him and nods. What is this? "Are you quite all right?" His face looks flushed, a slight pink shining through the dark tinge of his skin. "You're not becoming ill, are you?"

The Qunari sighs. "No, _kadan_ , I don't think so." His eyes fix on mine, but there is a strange look in them. The fact that there is somewhat of a look in them is already strange to begin with. Sten takes a step back when I approach, determined to examine him. "There is really no need."

"Of course there is." I stare him down, or up in this case. "I need you to be ready for anything at all times. Now come." I crook my finger at the obstinate creature. "Stoop down to my level." It only takes the slightest of touches to know that something must be wrong with him. His forehead is burning and his heart is racing in his chest. Also, his muscles feel decidedly rigid. "Have you done anything to catch a cold?"

"No..." He shrugs, his cheeks taking on a deeper hue of pink. Curiouser and curiouser. "I did play fetch with Stubbs during your absence."

That shouldn't be enough to make him ill. Hmmm. "I see. Well, just get in the bath and soak for a little while." This is nothing serious, I'm sure. Qunari are so much hardier than humans. "You'll sweat out the sickness, then you'll be good as new." He nods in response, so I walk out. Aw, you know, I should really look after him better. He has saved my sorry hide quite a few times, after all. Just a little tender loving, or maybe just friendly care shouldn't be too much to ask. I'm still grateful for his comfort that time. And with his size, he's just perfect for cuddling. Sten is already sitting in the bath, back turned to me. His frame freezes up at my touch on his shoulder. "Just thought of something."

"What is it, _kadan_?" That's more like it. The typical Sten-brand weariness in his voice whenever he addresses me is back.

I sit myself on the edge beside him, placing my hands on his broad shoulders. His skin still feels like a fire is burning underneath it, muscles tense as can be. "You should relax." I start the kneading and the tension gets even worse. "I could help you, you know." For a brief moment I take my hands off him, to tip some fragrant oil into my palm and make it more enjoyable. For me, because it smells nice and for him, because it feels better than just my dry hands.

"I have no need of your help," he replies curtly. I can hear him sniffing; it really is a delightful smell and I'm sure he thinks so too.

"Yes, yes, I know; you're Sten of the Beresaad, Qunari warrior extraordinaire! Of course you have no need of my insignificant help." Deeply digging my fingers into the impressive cords of his muscles, I think of last night's dream and laugh. It seems so ridiculous now. "But it can't hurt, can it?" The Qunari makes no reply, but I can feel my treatment is beginning to work. I'm just that good. My fingers continue their work on their own, moving lower down his shoulder blades and spine. This is a wonderful thing to do. Maybe it could be a hobby. You know, for when I'm not busy fucking. "Now isn't this pleasant?"

Sten nods quietly. "You do not take no for an answer, do you?"

"Only if it's the answer I'm looking for." Now the arms. Maker's breath, they are massive. No wonder he handles Asala with such ease. I can barely even lift her. His fingers, though proportionately large, are surprisingly long and slender. One would expect coarser digits on such a powerful creature, but they are not like that at all. These look like the delicate hands of an artist. I suppose you might consider him one with his beloved blade. "There. How are you feeling?"

"There is nothing wrong with me," the man growls. Is this one of those male things? Where something is definitely wrong, but they would rather die than admit it? Pride is one thing, but sometimes they're ridiculous. Like that time Alistair nearly had his arm sliced off and claimed it was just a small nick. Men. I mentally roll my eyes. Hm, Sten still looks a bit pinkish; don't think I should bother him any longer though. No matter how much I would want to. What if he kills me out of sheer annoyance? I have stuff to do.

I get up. "Come by my room later, would you? I bought you a new set of armour and some cookies."

"Cookies?" If he wasn't so damn stoic, his face would've probably lit up like a candle. "Thank you, _kadan_. My armour is ready to fall apart at the seams."

"I know! And this one is even a proper set." I'll just leave him to it, then. His behaviour is so bizarre and since having a proper conversation with him is nigh impossible, I will probably never find out what might be wrong with him. That guy is so weird sometimes. Well, whatever. If he wants me to butt out, I'll butt out. Time for clothes and breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sten's behaviour seems a bit weird, doesn't it? If you read the 15th chapter of the Dog's Diary, it might make more sense.


	205. Howe's Estate - A Recurring Theme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wynne has a headache and stuff happens under a table.

### Howe's Estate - A Recurring Theme

Wynne is sitting at the table, a steaming cup of tea in front of her and her head cradled in her hands. She whimpers when I walk in. "Please keep it down..."

"The ale not agreeing with you?" I reply, keeping my voice as low as possible. Maybe her gift will cheer her up a bit.

"I've never had a headache like this in my life!" the old lady groans. "I know the perfect remedy, but I do not even have the ingredients on hand." Another groan. "I suppose you don't have a bit of Arl Foreshadow's Special Hangover Cure lying about, do you?"

I shake my head. "I'm sorry, no. Never even heard of the stuff." Ever so softly I place _The Rose of Orlais_ beside her cup. "Maybe this can distract you a little?"

"Hm?" Wynne raises her head from her hands and takes a look. Her eyes light up. "Is this for me?" She jumps up, hugging me when I nod. "Thank you, child! This is so-..." Her face twists in pain. "Oh, Maker, my poor brain..." Back to slumping over the table. "This is a marvellous gift." She looks up at me with an apologetic smile. "I shall devour it cover to cover, as soon as my head stops killing me."

I pat her shoulder, then leave her alone to stuff my face. I'm hungry as always. Thank goodness we are in a mansion where there is plenty of food. Mmm, the bread is still warm. So fresh. The crust is nice and crisp, with the bread deliciously soft. I bet they have used really good flour. Great. George's speech must have rubbed off on me somehow. Well, it's good bread. All it needs is a thick layer of butter. Cup of tea. Perfect.

"Good morning, ladies!" Alistair bellows suddenly, eliciting a cry of agony from Wynne. "I am so sorry." He lays his hand on her arm. "Can I do anything for you?"

"You could stop being so loud," our granny grumbles. "I will never drink ale again."

My fellow Warden nods sympathetically. "I know exactly how you feel." He grins. "I've said that many times myself." Quietly he sits down beside me and ruffles my hair. "Hey, little Warden." His eyes devour the luxurious array of foods that has been laid out for us. "Looks good, huh? Hmm, where to start…"

"Would you like some tea?" I hold up the pot. "It's mint."

"Oh, I love mint!" Al whispers loudly. Wynne glares at him. "I'll just be quiet now." Quiet he may be while he dumps various bits of bread and what-else-but cheese on his plate, but his eyes send me the most suggestive looks. From time to time he glances at our companion, but the old lady is too busy cradling her head in her hands and groaning in pain to pay much attention to us. With his lips very close to my ear, the Warden whispers: "I missed you last night." His words are oozing with desire and I find that I might need a change of knickers.

Placing my hand on his thigh, I whisper back: "Missed you too, sweetie." Oh, how this reminds me of Jowan and our adventures in Redcliffe Castle. And isn't Alistair his official successor now? I should be struck by lightning if I miss an opportunity like this. It really isn't bad for a recurring theme. My fingers trail up, until they brush the pronounced bulge at the front of his trousers. His eyebrows nearly hit his hairline and the corners of his mouth curl up – I don't think he'll mind very much if I just slip my hand into his pants. He quickly grows against my digits, but really, I can hardly move them like this. Those trousers need to be opened first. Casually stuffing cheese sandwiches – which in true Alistair fashion consist of a slice of bread stuffed between two slices of cheese – into his mouth with one hand, the other helps me undo the laces.

My, my, how wonderfully large he is. I love how my fingers can barely meet. My muscles clench, remembering him deep inside of me. Later, perhaps. Though I have to chuckle at the idea of Al bending me over the table while Wynne is still sitting over there. Somehow I manage to eat my breakfast while playing with that magnificent cock. He twitches in my hand, obviously excited. A single drop drips down to my fingers. He must be _very_ excited. For a split second, I take my hand off him to look him in the eye and lap up the liquid. Mmm, tasty.

Alistair gulps visibly, his eyes wide. Ha, so cute. There is still something of that innocent little boy left in him. Good. Continuing my manipulations, I casually remark: "By the way, you should come by my room later. I bought you a little gift while we were out." A particularly firm squeeze and I can see his breath hitching in his throat.

"I like gifts," he replies, his voice slightly husky. "What is it?"

"It's a surprise." With my free hand I raise my cup to my lips, the other running up and down that velvety rod. "You'll love it though, I promise."

A wide grin lights up his handsome face. "Can I have it now?" There is a certain despair in his gaze, telling me that I'll be giving him more than just the collection of various cheeses.

"Sure." I tuck his equipment back in his pants, ever so discreetly. Let him do those damned laces himself. Someone should really invent a kind of closure to help you get in and out of your clothing faster. I would do it myself, if I had more of a brain. Something tells me I've had thoughts in a similar vein before. Quickly I stuff the remainder of my breakfast down my mouth. I don't want anybody to eat it while I'm away. Even if it probably won't happen with Jowan gone. I miss you, you gluttonous bastard. How he could stay so skinny is anybody's guess. Sigh. Never mind. "Come on, then."

He winks. "Be right behind you." All right. I shrug and head towards my chamber. Only a few paces later, I am forcefully pushed against the wall. "You dirty, dirty girl," the Warden breathes into my ear. His hands are eagerly pulling up my skirt and I can feel myself being raised higher.

"Whoa there, old friend, don't you think we should take this to my room?" Perhaps I was wrong about his innocence. Still, I can't help but melt. This kind of behaviour, so dominant and decisive, just gets me all hot and bothered.

"Nope, can't wait another moment." And suddenly, he is buried deep inside of me. I wrap my arms and legs around his body, moan softly into his ear. Such a wonderful feeling this is. That long, thick cock snugly embraced by my wet walls. Pleasure stabs my innards. "I can't believe you touched me like that right in front of Wynne," Al chuckles, his lips on my neck. He is moving his hips very subtly, but it's enough to drive me mad with want. "I wanted to have you right then and there."

I gasp at a particularly deep push. Everything about this – being out in the open, his desperate desire for me, his sizeable organ stretching me apart, the sweet little noises he's making – is just so fucking hot. My life isn't always like a dirty novel, but when it is, it is absolutely glorious. "That would've been quite the show…" I'm beginning to sweat profusely under all this attention.

"I know, right?" He growls, then spreads my legs as far they will go, hands under my knees. "Damn it, Aster, look at what you do to me." His words are uttered in a rough manner, pure want in every single one. Relentlessly he pumps into me while I'm pinned down like a butterfly. The muscles in my inner thighs are stretched to the point of pain. "You drive me crazy," the poor boy groans in despair. Thrust, thrust, thrust – hard and fast and deep. Mmm… It's so good I barely feel the burning in my thighs. A few more powerful thrusts and he comes, filling me with his seed and growling into my ear. Andraste's _ass_ , that was sexy. Carefully he lowers me back to the ground and cups my face in his hands. "I'm so sorry, little Warden." His thumb grazes my cheek bone. "I don't know what came over me just now." He sounds kind and gentle once more, embarrassment lacing the tones of his voice.

"Welcome to the world of animal lust, my friend." I straighten my skirt again. Now I really do need a change of knickers. Standing on my toes, I give him a soft kiss. "Don't worry about it. It was really good."

Al looks relieved. "Really?" He smiles brightly when I nod. "I hope I haven't hurt you."

"My thighs are somewhat sore, but that'll blow over." I grab his hand. "Come on, you'll love your present."


	206. Howe's Estate - So Cheesy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair receives a typical gift and then some typical favours of another kind.

### Howe's Estate - So Cheesy

The Warden allows me to drag him to my room, chuckling all the while. He can be so perfectly adorable sometimes. Most of the time, even. "Close your eyes." I keep a close watch on him while I pull the beautifully carved wooden box from one of the bags.

His nostrils flare. Sniff, sniff. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Maybe…" I take off the lid. Seven luxury stinky cheeses are nestled in pretty paper cups, laid upon a purple velvet lining. This is about as Orlesian as it gets. "Go on, have a look."

He takes his hands off his eyes and they light up at the sight of his gift. "You know me so well!" Flinging his strong arms around me, he firmly presses his lips to my cheek. "Thank you, I love it."

"I knew you would." When in doubt: cheese. That's my Alistair-rule-of-thumb.

"And that's why you are my bestest friend ever." The utter delight on his face morphs into something more mischievous. "Now, you sit down here." He coaxes me onto the edge of the bed and kneels before me. "I have to return the favour," says Alistair with a wink. "It's only fair." Ever so slowly he peels my knickers off my hips, down my legs, until they dangle about my ankles. Then they go flying into a corner. Without any further preamble, the man buries his face between my thighs. "Maker's breath," he mumbles into my flesh. "I love everything about you." He inhales deeply, his tongue plunging between my folds. "You're delicious."

I lean back on my hands. "Yeah? Even with a bit of you in there?" Perhaps even some of Zev, heh. The idea that he is licking his own cum out of me is just… Oh, it is _marvellous_. My breath catches in my throat as his tongue touches my clit.

He looks up for a moment. "I like your pure taste better, of course, but I've had worse." His own cooking, probably. Grinning wickedly, he licks his index and middle finger before sliding them into me. My muscles pull tight around his digits. "You know, it's a shame I can't see your face when I'm licking you." His thumb softly presses my button, making me cry out. He chuckles at my response.

"Then just use your fingers and watch." Though I do prefer the soft wetness of a tongue, there is absolutely nothing wrong with his manual skill. Very soon I feel the onset of my climax, that delicious feeling deep in my belly and the tremor in my legs. My fellow Warden's eyes are riveted to my face as he pleasures me, uttering a little groan with every moan that comes out of me. "You're _so_ good…"

The smile on his lips widens. "I've had a great teacher, kitty." The intensity and speed of his caresses increase. "Are you going to come for me?" I can't even answer; my eyes roll back in my head and I scream, grinding myself against his hand. Searing, blinding pleasure fills my being. Somewhere I can hear Al whistling appreciatively. "That was _awesome_ ," he says, when I'm no longer dead to the world.

"Whew, I'll say…" I want to get up, but find myself on my back with my handsome companion on top of me. His mouth covers mine, his arms winding around my waist. Between soft, sweet kisses I manage to get in: "Shouldn't we be heading back?" Alistair ignores me, seizing the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth instead. You know what, I'm not going to argue with this. If anybody else finds out about us, so be it. Might as well go for the full experience. I pull up his tunic; he allows me to take it off him, leaving me unkissed for but a moment. No matter how often this happens, I will always adore feeling his bare skin against mine.

Clearly the Warden is no longer the bumbling boy I first bedded. His fingers are extremely skilled at getting me out of my robes; I'm wearing nothing in no time at all. "I've been waiting for this all night," he mumbles against my lips. "Where were you?" His half-lidded eyes scan my face.

"I… may have been in bed with Morrigan." I laugh at his shocked expression. "Nothing sexual, I assure you. Don't tell her I told you, but she demanded I cuddle with her and then fell asleep in my arms."

He chuckles under his breath. "If I didn't hate her guts, I might find it endearing." His lips move to the slope of my shoulder. "You're too nice to her, I think."

"Do you really want to discuss that now?" I run my hand through his hair and smile at him. The redness in his cheeks is just irresistible. I must pinch them a little, right now. His giggling makes me want to pinch them even more.

"We have better things to do, don't we?" His tongue twines around mine again and suddenly the urge to coddle him is gone. I help him take off the last of his kit, so we may join together once more. This time he is slow and gentle, moving his hips in such a way as to touch my deepest recesses. I clutch him in my arms and run my hands down his back, then lower. Nice. Buns of steel. His hands, meanwhile, aren't idly lying by either. One of them is on my breast, softly squeezing the nipple and making me gasp into his mouth. The other has crept around my side; the fingers are slowly running down my spine. "Aster," he finally whispers, leaving my lips cold and lonely. "I… You are making me very happy, letting me do this with you." He smiles so beautifully and kindly. Seeing him like this makes my heart swell with affection.

I ruffle his hair. "It's an honour and a pleasure, sweetie." My voice quivers slightly and tears are gathering in the corners of my eyes. These are happy tears though, because the positive change in him is so obvious and apparently I had a hand in it. "You are a great guy, you know that?"

"If you tell me often enough, I might start believing you," he chuckles, briefly pressing his lips to mine. His face turns a deeper shade of red. "So uh, I really liked having your legs open like that earlier." He coughs. "Will you let me put them over my shoulders?"

"Of course." I know how good that feels, after all. "Whatever you like." With my legs over his shoulders and being bent almost double, I'm going to have a little trouble breathing properly. Still so worth it.

Al eyes my face with worry. "Are you going to be all right like this?" I nod and moan involuntarily as he makes the slightest of movements. "Nice." No more words now. I clasp my hands to the back of his neck and let him rest his forehead against mine; we stay like this, exchanging the occasional kiss, while he moves with long, slow, deep strokes. Every single one makes me feel so blissful. My skin breaks out in goose flesh, heat surges through me. Normally I would be begging for him to go harder, harder, harder, but not this time. Maker's breath, I don't think I've ever felt this… _connected_ during the act before. The overwhelming feeling of warmth makes me want to weep. I wouldn't want to alarm my lover with tears, so I kiss him with renewed fervour. Alistair hums his approval against my tongue and picks up his pace. "I can't keep this up for much longer," he finally pants.

"Well, don't let me stop you." My words come out in breathless whispers. "Go on, gorgeous, come inside me." His frame tightens in response; his erection gives a single throb. "Pump me full of cum."

He obeys very promptly. Whimpering and looking decidedly desperate, the boy squeezes his eyes shut. "Now what did I tell you about that dirty talk?" he says afterwards in a mildly accusing tone, the hint of a glare in his gaze.

"How are you ever going to get used to it if I don't use it at all?" I unhook my legs from his shoulders and wrap them around his waist instead. The time for cuddles: it has come.

"Hmm, you have a point there." With a sigh he collapses onto me and puts his strong arms around my waist. "Still, I don't know if I even _can_ get used to it." Being held by him gives me this safe feeling, whether we're naked and have just slept together or not.

I laugh. "Guess we'll just have to do it a lot and I will have to say many naughty things to you." That'll be fun. Lots of fun.

"Oh no." He rolls his eyes in mock exasperation. "Anything but that." We share some laughter, until he eyes me curiously. "Is this normal? I never feel like I've had enough."

"You ferocious beast, you…" It's true though; he is already hard again. Such virility. "I don't know, to be honest." I run my tongue along the length of his throat, eliciting a low moan. "When I first started doing it, I could never get enough either." If I'd had my way, I would never have come off Cullen's cock in the first place.

Alistair flips me onto my stomach. "I guess you haven't changed much." After some minor fumbling, he slips back into me with a delighted groan. I welcome him by tightening my sheath, upon which he smacks my butt. "Naughty girl," he says, his tone approving. No need for him to say anything, really; the way his cock has slightly increased in size speaks for itself. "I don't really want to get out of bed today." From the sound of his voice, it's obvious he means it.

"Mmm, if it's going to be like this, neither do I." We still have to talk to those nobles and get some dirt on Loghain; is there any wonder why I'm not too eager to do that? If it's work vs. sex, the latter will always, always win. Always. Every time. Maybe we _will_ stay in bed all day.

"All I want to do," the Warden whispers heatedly into my ear, "is stay here and fuck you until you can no longer walk." Those filthy words make me gasp and moan, make my muscles clench around his powerfully pumping cock. He chuckles in an almost evil manner. "You're not the only one who can talk dirty, kitty." I'll say… I suppose it's different when you're not on the receiving end. "Tell me how good this feels."

Really, really good. I give a loud groan. "Are you really…" He hits me so deeply, my breath is taken away. "Expecting me to string together a sentence like this?" Every word is a moan.

"That good, huh?" He laughs and gets on his knees, pulling me into a kneeling position too. His hand comes down on my butt, hard. "Say my name, then."

I yelp at the slight sting. "A-Alistair…" Suddenly I feel so shy, though I normally have no qualms at all about yelling out his – or Zev's for that matter – name.

"Louder." He smacks me again, harder now, pushing in his entire length at the same time. "You can do it, kitty." This time I manage a loud, lustful moaning of his name, his behaviour making my knees and stomach turn weak. "Good girl." Alistair strokes my heated backside. "This calls for a treat." And so he begins slamming into me harder and faster than he's ever done, his hand giving me the occasional hard slap. I find his name rolling off my tongue again and again, without my having given the command. It's that fucking good. This time he doesn't even warn me when he comes, but I know him well enough to be able to tell. His fingers dig deep into my hips, painfully, while he snarls like an animal and convulses. "Maker's breath, kitty, you wear me out." The Warden pulls me into his arms as he lies sprawled across the bed, his chest heaving.

"Is it better than fighting darkspawn?" I know I think so. Much, much more fun and fewer risks of injury.

Al makes his typical thinking noise. "Oh, I don't know…" Grinning mischievously, he kisses me once more and squeezes my behind at the same time. "Maybe we'll have to do it a few more times so I can make up my mind." He quirks his eyebrow and sends me a suave look.

"What about the whole righteous Grey Wardening?" Sometimes I still think of our duties. Very occasionally. Also, I'm parched after all this sweaty exercise. If I don't get a few glasses of water in me soon, I know I will get a very nasty headache. Somehow I manage to tear myself away from my obscenely attractive friend. "We should go talk to those nobles the arl mentioned."

"Aw, but look…" Hand curled around the base, the boy jiggles his regained erection at me. "I'm hard again and it will only go away if you help me." He bats his eyelashes at me like a lovesick girl, making me giggle.

I pull my panties on. "Oh, Alistair, what am I to do with you?"

"You could take those off, for starters." His hand is running up and down that glorious length of his and once again I feel my resistances crumble. I can't resist him, obviously; nor can we really stay in bed all day. A wide grin appears on his face when I place my knee on the mattress. "I'm so glad you are awful at fighting temptation," he says triumphantly.

"Filthy opportunist." I lay myself on my stomach between his legs. "How about a compromise?"

He winces. "Please keep the diplomacy thing out of the bedroom."

"Well, sweetie, it's your own fault for being so fucking irresistible." Looking up at him with the most seductive look I can muster, I lightly run my fingertips along the insides of his thighs. "How about I suck your cock for you now," here I seize the hulking thing with both hands, "and tonight I give you a very special treat?" With the flat of my tongue, I cover his entire length in one long lick.

"Oh, what kind of treat is that?" A groan punctuates every other word as I continue my treatment. Doing this is so much fun. Those reactions, mmm… So sexy.

"I will let you fuck my ass with this big, beautiful tool of yours." Said tool expands and pulses in my hand, so asking the following question is quite redundant: "How does that sound?"

Al moans breathlessly. "I think I love you." Oh, I know he does. He will love me even more if I go on pleasuring him with my mouth.

There is a knock at the door, hard enough to rattle it in its hinges. Fabulous. "Oi, Warden, you in there?"

I sigh and let that lovely knob slip from between my lips, continuing the stimulation by hand. "What do you want, Virgil?" Of all the times to be bothered, this had to be it. Alistair seems surprised that I know the name that goes with the voice.

"Say, can I come in a second?" the intruder asks. "I feel stupid talking to a door."

Al replies in a reflex: "Absolutely not!" Then he smacks his palm against his forehead, wincing.

"Ooooh…" Virgil laughs knowingly. "Two birds with one stone! Look, I'm only here to tell you that Arl Eamon wants both of you in his study on the double." His laughter fades away with his footsteps.

"Well, that was embarrassing." As if to reinforce his words, the Warden's cock softens slightly in my hands. "Please gag me next time." I immediately see him before me, helpless and bound with many ropes. Mine to do with as I see fit. Heh. Maybe some other time. Let's not waste any more words. I close my lips around his length again and feel it grow against my caressing tongue. Alistair shares my enthusiasm, because soon he grabs me by the ears to steady my head and thrust into my mouth. Oh, how I love it when he just seizes control like this. Sure, he's less than careful and sometimes I can't help gagging, but seeing, hearing and feeling him enjoy himself is more than worth it. His joy doesn't last very long. It takes no more than a moment for him to grow just a bit thicker and shoot hot strands against my tongue. "I'm sorry." He sends me a rueful look as I rub my throat. "Have I hurt you?"

I shrug. "No, not really." Giving his stomach a friendly pat, I smile up at him. "Feel a bit better now?"

"I think this will tide me over for at least an hour," he chuckles. "Hand me my smalls, would you?"


	207. Howe's Estate - It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four intrepid adventurers sneak into a mansion.

### Howe's Estate - It Begins

Perhaps there will be some adventure today after all. Arl Eamon wanted us in his study on the double, because of some trouble. Ha-ha! I'm a poet and I don't even know it. Just kidding, I did that on purpose. Erlina, an elven brunette with an atrocious Orlesian accent, had come to beg us to free her mistress. Who just so happens to be Queen Anora. Apparently Arl Howe has imprisoned her in his Denerim estate. What an idiot. So here we are, Alistair, Zevran, Sten and I, on a daring rescue mission. Erlina has already gone on ahead. Safety in numbers, I would think, but whatever floats her boat.

I honestly would have preferred Leliana over Zev, no matter how much I like him in the bedroom, but she hadn't returned yet. I left Shale, Stubbs and Morrigan with instructions to look for our bard if she doesn't come back in the next few hours. Maker's breath, I hope Isabela doesn't like her so much that she has kidnapped her. Unless Leliana would enjoy the sailor's life, I don't know. I'd miss her.

Wynne was in too much pain to bring along, poor woman. She doesn't seem convinced that I too can keep our trusty companions alive. My pouch is constantly making ringing noises, because she insisted I take all the healing draughts she had made, as well as what seems to be the entire country's supply of healing poultices. I know that I don't have her experience or her skill, but I have learned new spells and I'm not afraid to use them. No doubt I will get to try that Lifeward spell for the first time today; I have a sinking feeling that this is going to be a difficult mission. Another one.

Sten appears to be happy with his new set of armour, for as far as he can be happy. Looking very impressive too. Hmmm… Now that dream doesn't seem so very ridiculous. I really need to get a grip; twice with Zev – who also appears to be enjoying his new leather gear – and twice with Alistair, yet I'm still not even close to satisfied. Bah. Oh good, there's the Howe Estate. There are many people in front of the main entrance; workmen demanding to get paid, I gather from their clamouring. Nice. A kidnapper _and_ a defaulter. Wonder what else this Howe might have on his slate.

Erlina is already awaiting us. "The servants' entrance is on the other side of the house." Ugh, her speech is making me cringe. "Follow me." The angry mob doesn't notice our presence as we quietly walk past them. No need to be even remotely stealthy. Oh, there are guards posted by the servants' entrance too. Terrific. "I can distract the guards, but you must move quickly." It's a good thing we put our disguises on just now; she is so anxious. Zevran and I hide behind a low wall, Sten and Alistair taking cover behind bushes, while Erlina runs up to the two men. "Oh, you must come!" she shrieks fearfully. "I think I saw a darkspawn by the fountain!"

I'm half inclined to believe her. The closer we are to the building, the stronger I feel those blasted whispers in my mind. Why, I don't know. The guards have debated amongst themselves whether to believe the "knife-eared wench" or not and now run after her to the scary thing that might be a darkspawn. The entrance is clear. We make a break for it, clanging as we go. This disguise isn't the most comfy; I've never had plate armour on before. And now I don't think I will ever do it again.

"You know…" Alistair lays an arm around my shoulders as we place ourselves in an inconspicuous spot to await Erlina's return. "You have to be the cutest little guard I've ever seen." He waggles his eyebrows in a comical manner.

"Oh, dear, sweet Alikins…" I roll my eyes at him. "You're absolutely mad."

He pulls his face into a dirty expression. "Alikins? Please don't ever call me that again."

Zevran laughs, pushing the helmet that is a tad too large for him away from his eyes. "Alikins!" He raises his hands defensively at Alistair's dark look. "No, I take that back and please don't try to shove your boot up my behind. However…" With a great big grin on his face, he drapes his arm around my waist. I feel so loved. "I must agree: more guards like you and they will be queuing up to join." While the two boys go on about the advantages of having women like me as a guard – not a great idea, if you ask me – Sten looks away and grumbles to himself. I wonder what's eating him. Not that I'd expect him to join in, but I had at least thought he would offer a bit of realism. Nice to see Alistair and Zevran getting along, though; they're far removed from their glaring contest at Ostagar.

Finally our guide sneaks through the door. "Oh, it took me forever to be rid of those two," she mutters angrily. "My lady is in a guest room off the main hall. Make sure to blend in and not to draw any attention to yourselves." That's a pro-tip, right there. "To the servants you will be just another guard and most of the guards are new, so they will not know you for a stranger at a glance. But please, be careful." With that, she gestures us to follow her. Sweet apples of Andraste, the place is filled to bursting with guards. I would hate to fight my way through them. Nobody pays any attention to us, thankfully. The tainted song in my head is growing stronger and stronger; if Alistair is experiencing the same thing, he doesn't show it. The taint is different for each of us, he once told me. We halt in front of a door. Not just any ordinary door; it seems to be glowing. "The Grey Wardens are here, my lady," Erlina tells the door. What, a normal lock isn't good enough anymore? It's like they knew we were coming.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" an excited voice sighs inside. "I would greet you properly, but we've had a bit of a setback."

"Does it have anything to do with you being stuck behind some magical door?" Always helpful and perceptive, me. I can hear Alistair snickering. I'm also hilarious.

"Well, you're even brighter than they say," Her Majesty retorts. "Clearly I don't have to tell you anything about my predicament."

The poor elven girl is biting her nails. "We must get her out of there!"

"Don't panic, Erlina," Anora unsuccessfully tries to soothe her servant. "Just find the mage who cast the spell. He will probably be with Howe."

I sigh. Truly, I must be psychic. "Sure. We'll be back when they're dead, Your Majesty." Because I don't think they'll simply open the door if I flutter my pretty eyelashes at them. Erlina will only get in the way with all those nerves, so I let her stay with her mistress instead. Onwards we go, then. The song is getting louder as we venture deeper into the estate. That nonsense Erlina was spewing about darkspawn couldn't actually be true, could it? They may be planning to attack the city; maybe there are scouts present. Alistair doesn't seem to feel anything, though. Surely he would have said something. Maybe my darkspawn senses are just overly tingly today.

Zevran, who has been poking his head into every room so far – Maker knows why – tugs at my sleeve. He is grinning like the cat that got the cream. "This is something you must see." He presses his finger to his lips and gestures to a nearby open door. What are those noises coming from there? Making the most of my sneaky stealth, I position myself beside the door and peek inside. Pfft, bwahahaha... One of the guards appears to just randomly be standing in the middle of the room, his head thrown back. But look more closely and you will see a small pair of hands, holding on to his bum. Judging by the manly moans and slobbering noises, the man is experiencing a rather thorough spit-shine of the old knob. They must both be enjoying themselves silly. Zev moves behind me, his body precariously close to mine. "Reminds me of this morning," he softly murmurs in my ear.

"What on earth are you two doing?" Alistair whispers. He is tall enough to share the view, without us having to get out of the way. "We don't have time for-… Whoa."

Our elven assassin chuckles. "Is that a cudgel in your pocket, Warden, or are you just happy to see this?"

"I always carry a cudgel in my pocket; didn't you know that?" Wow. My little Alistair has become such a big boy. Not even a hint of embarrassment in his voice. Just his typical humour. I'm so proud.

" _Vashedan_!" Sten also joins us. "What are you all standing around here for?" Then he sees what we're looking at. After an array of mumblings in his own tongue, he finally says: "Disgusting. That cannot be hygienic." The couple in the room certainly don't seem to care about hygiene. The delighted moaning continues.

"Clearly you have never had one of those," Zevran protests. "Because-..."

I manage to cut off the beginnings of a doubtlessly long monologue on the joys of oral sex with a resolute hand gesture. "Be that as it may, Sten's right. We've got stuff to do." Enough comic relief for now. Time to get serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anything could sum up my way of writing, this is it: http://oglaf.com/perhaps/ Very NSFW.


	208. Howe's Estate - Tainted Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes free a very important prisoner.

### Howe's Estate - Tainted Music

So far, so good. Everyone has either ignored our presence or nodded at us as if we belong here. Heh. This one guard was complaining about his job guarding guard dogs. It doesn't make much sense to me either. It's funny, though: there are no other female, elven or Qunari guards here, but you won't hear me moaning about the lack of suspicion and bloodshed. I like it when a plan comes together, really. There were documents in a chest that wasn't even locked, with a broken Grey Warden seal on them. The contents make zero sense to me. These could be massively important, or a joke. We'll see, if we ever get to the Orlesian Wardens. When, I mean. We haven't found Howe yet, but we should soon run into some stairs or a door that will lead us to a lower or higher floor. There. Those cells. There is something in there that is causing the tainted whispers to change the way they have. Have they captured a darkspawn, or is it...? That can't be, can it?

"Hold it!" barks the guard posted by the cells, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Who are you lot?" I can see a pair of hands emerging from between the bars of the cell behind him; the man doesn't notice a thing. Too busy being suspicious of us. "I've never seen-…" The hands, quick as lightning, close tightly around the unfortunate's head and give a sharp twist. He drops to the ground without a noise, dead as a doornail. We watch speechlessly as the corpse's keys are taken from his belt, the body dragged out of our view. It all happens so quickly.

A man steps from the cell, dressed in the late guard's uniform. My heart skips at least five beats. Although quite a bit older, his dark hair, pale eyes and pronounced stubble remind me of someone. The newcomer looks at the four of us in turn, then smiles. Friendly little wrinkles appear around his eyes. "I thank you for creating a distraction for me, strangers." His voice sounds kind. And dead sexy. His light Orlesian accent is on par with Leliana's, melodious and beautiful. "I was waiting weeks for such an opportunity."

"You're a Grey Warden," I mumble – half to myself – knowing now where the new whispers have been coming from.

The man raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Yes, I am." Looking more closely at my colleague, he exclaims: "Alistair! Good to see you again."

"Oh, of course, you were at my Joining," he replies. "From Orlais. Jader, or Montsimmard? I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name. This is Astoreth," Alistair introduces me. "The recruit Duncan brought from the Circle."

"I'm Riordan, senior Warden of Jader, but born and bred in Highever and happy to be back," he laughs. I don't even know the man, but I like him already. He seems nice. Then there's the lovely voice and the good looks.

I look him up and down. Not been cared for well, I think. "How did Howe capture you?"

"With an offer of hospitality and a poisoned chalice." Riordan chuckles bitterly. "I was fool enough to think Loghain didn't yet know who I was. Howe is probably still in the dungeons, if you need him."

I nod. "You'd better get out of here. I could heal you first, if you like." It's got nothing to do with me perhaps wanting to touch him. Honest.

"Save your energy, lass. I think you'll need it." He does accept the potion I offer him. "Thank you. Now to breathe some free air and find a good physician." First, though, he uncorks the vial and chugs down its contents. His face scrunches up in disgust. "Bitter, but I feel healthier already. I will seek you out later." Another friendly smile. "Good luck." He stumbles out, his gait unsteady. Poor man.

"Thank you," says Alistair, then turns to me. "How did you know he was one of us?"

I shrug. "I could feel him." Zevran chuckles. "Not like that, you pervert." Although I certainly wouldn't mind it.

"Maybe I'm a bit dense, but I don't quite follow." Al scratches his head. "Care to explain?"

"Well, I've only known two, now three other Grey Wardens, but you've all sounded distinctly different, taint-wise. So do darkspawn, for that matter." Darkspawn scream in my head, chaos and strife in sound. It is music for people filled with rage, I guess.

The Warden raises his eyebrows. "Every darkspawn sounds different to you?"

"No, I mean, they all sound the same, but different from us." It didn't take me long to adjust to the murmurs in my mind. Wonder what I sound like myself. I still remember Duncan's song very vividly. Calm and soothing, like sitting by a roaring fire with a cup of cocoa while a blizzard rages outside. Alistair's is like friendly chatter: an animated conversation with a friend you've known forever. Riordan's song is so distracting. It is slow and sensual. Very sexy. I might describe it as making love without a rush or a worry in the world. No wonder I like him, if he reminds me of that. Maybe it's got something to do with their personalities. Or maybe it's just me. I don't know if any of this is real. I might be making this shit up to make it more palatable for myself. Having all this alien racket in your mind all the time is no picnic, you know. Insanity seems but a small step away, at times. "Don't you feel it this way too, Alistair?"

He shakes his head. "No, I don't. I can't even distinguish darkspawn from other Wardens." There is a pensive look in his eyes. "I wish I could."

"This is all highly fascinating," says Zevran dryly. "But shouldn't we be moving on?"

I feel ashamed. My mind is not on the job right now and I'm totally blaming the Grey Warden I just met for it. "You're right, Zev. Ever the voice of reason you are."

"Finally some recognition for my sharp intellect!" Zev laughs heartily.

"We're doomed," Sten grunts. Maker's breath, I was only joking.


	209. Howe's Estate - Surprise Whore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some subterfuge is in order to get more easily past a room full of guards.

### Howe's Estate - Surprise Whore

I look at the heavy door before me. "I feel trouble coming up." Don't ask me why, but I know that there are hostile guards behind this thing. I just know it.

"Me too," Alistair says gravely.

Zevran, not very gravely: "Me three."

"I will not say it," grumbles our Qunari companion.

"Don't worry, friends, I have an idea." I'm brilliant. Unless it doesn't work, then I'm stupid. I remove my disguise – finally I'm rid of all that bloody metal – and partially undo the laces on my robes. The men look on with their eyes wide open as I gear myself up for irresistible sexiness. Wynne would probably not approve, so it's a good thing we left her to recover. Shake my hair free and there we go. I may be covered in scars and such, but that shouldn't be a huge problem. I hope. I've got boobs to serve as a distraction. "So, here is the plan: I pretend to be a surprise whore from Howe, disarm them and then you three take them by surprise. All right?"

Sten lays a hand on the back of his neck. "That is not a bad plan, surprisingly." My, what a sweet compliment. "But it is risky. Are you sure of this, _kadan_?"

"Yes, little Warden, I would rather not put you in danger like that." My dear colleague, caring as ever.

"Oh, please," says Zev with a roll of the eyes. "No man in there will be able to resist her. You are perfectly safe."

I smack him on the shoulder. "Thanks for that vote of confidence. I'll clap my hands twice; that'll be the signal." They hide behind the door while I go in. Was I right, or what? Six guards, who seem none too friendly, simultaneously turn to me. They already have their hands on their swords. "Hello, boys," I greet them, as seductively as I possibly can. Channelling the inner sex goddess: who'd have thought it could be so easy?

"Who are you?" The speaker's eyes are already glued to my cleavage. Ha. "Howe never said anything about any visitors."

"That's because I'm a surprise, silly." I giggle like I'm missing half my brain. "My name is Aster and I work at the Pearl." Slowly I take off my shrug and drop it at my feet, making the most of the opened laces on my robes. "His Lordship appreciates how hard you work and he figured you deserved a bit of entertainment." I am one smooth operator, as I may have mentioned before. They all appear to be drooling, eyes riveted to my various curves. "You must get awfully lonely down here, with only your fine selves for company."

One of the gentlemen most not be convinced, because he says: "Just one woman for all of us? Kind of miserly, if you ask me."

"I hope you've brought lube, baby, because you're going to need it," another man chuckles lasciviously. Rude. I'll just ignore that.

I shrug. "Have you been outside lately? There is a reason all those people are screaming before the front door." Rubbing my thumb against my index and middle finger, I add: "Money, of course. Between you and me: I know Arl Howe personally and this is about as generous as he gets." I would almost believe this nonsense myself.

"I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth," laughs the guard closest to me. "Not that I'm calling you a horse, honey." He lays his arms around my waist and attempts to pull me close, but I dance out of his grasp.

"My, how eager you are." I playfully swat at another groping hand and look at the leering faces closing in on me. Even the one who wanted more women has changed his mind, I see. "Why don't you boys get comfortable and take off all that armour? I'd like to see what I'm getting to work with here." They must be chomping at the bit. First their weapons are thoughtlessly discarded. Metal and leather parts go flying around the place, then articles of clothing, until they are standing before me in only their smallclothes. Six little soldiers are standing at attention for me. Heh. Well, they may not be the handsomest bunch, but they are in great shape. Such a shame they will have to die. "Oh, very nice, gentlemen," I purr, licking my lips like a hungry cat about to get at her food. "Let's get this party started, shall we?" I clap my hands, once, twice, and my allies come rushing in. "Bet you're really surprised now, huh?"

Three are on fire before they have time to react, flailing around like decapitated chickens. It's too cruel of me. So when Alistair throws me my sword, I swiftly make short work of them. No need to make them suffer overly much. I turn around and see that the other three are dead too: two have lost their heads and one has been stabbed through the heart. We are a great team.

Alistair wipes the blood from his blade, then returns it to its sheath. "This was almost too easy."

"We work hard, Alistair, we deserve a break from time to time." With my robes properly closed and my hair tied back, I feel like my old boring self again. Good. Pretending to be a whore came just a tad too naturally to me.

"I'm not complaining," he says brightly. "I like easy." Which is probably why he is so fond of me.

Zevran shoots me an appraising look. "You would make an excellent bard, Warden, with the way you got them to trust you."

"Oh, I don't think I would make a good bard, Zev." I laugh and shake my head. "I can't carry a tune to save my life." Jowan always got all dramatic whenever I was singing or humming to myself, pressing his hands to his ears and groaning. Ass. Ah, good times. "Maybe I would make a good Crow instead?"

"They would certainly love to add you to their ranks." The elf pats my arm. "But, as I said before, you're smarter than that."

Sten lets out a growl that sounds suspiciously impatient. "Keep the banter to a minimum, if you would. We haven't found your Howe yet."


	210. Howe's Estate - Soris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another prisoner in Howe's dungeon.

### Howe's Estate - Soris

This is a sick, sick place. Or rather, Arl Howe is one sick puppy. We've fought our way through a great many guards – vicious, vicious creatures – earning ourselves a bit of injury. Nothing my healing or the occasional potion couldn't fix. I think I'm getting better at this. I should be staying well back, but I have a sword now. And a shield. Might as well use them. Wynne would not be happy about that, but she is still not the boss of me. As long as I keep a cool head and think things through, I should be fine. No more climbing on top of dragons or such nonsense. Nope. I have learned my lesson.

The first non-hostile person we found was being stretched out on a rack. Where are we, the Dark Ages? How awfully barbaric. This Oswyn was in terrible shape, his legs especially. He was also under the impression that we were sent by his father, some bann I had never heard of before. If our freeing of his son won't earn us his vote in the Landsmeet, I don't know what will. The young man happily accepted some of my healing magic and a potion to drink on the go.

Then there was some madman in a cell, who kept talking about stuff that happened at Ostagar. Or so I think, since he was speaking of sounding the retreat and running. Some of his babbling was really unnerving. "Ate them," he said. Ate whom? Then he mentioned a witch. Maybe he saw Flemeth. Maybe he met Morrigan in the swamps. I don't know. I don't think I want to know. When I told him to go somewhere safe, he went off to look for an actual safe. Poor slob.

Across from the madman's cell is somebody else. So inconspicuous, I would have walked right past him if he hadn't made a noise. A young elf with bright red hair. At first he looks at us as if he can't believe what he's seeing. "What month is it?" His voice is cracked and dry. "Are you some enemy of Arl Urien's?" Zevran has the flimsy lock picked in no time and opens the door. "Thank you," the red-haired elf tells him. "I feel like I've spent half my life down here." He all but snatches our Crow's waterskin from his hands and drinks greedily until the water pours down his chin. We've given all other prisoners some water, but none seemed to be in a need as great as this one.

"Maybe you have; Arl Urien has been dead for months." Maker's breath, what are they doing to all these people? You have to be a sadistic bastard to get such ideas. "What's your name?"

"Soris." The boy wipes his mouth with his ragged sleeve. He has a few badly healed cuts on his face, evident even with the dirt on his skin. His high cheekbones are all too visible. "Who's ruling now? That bastard Vaughan struck me down and I woke up here." Soris shakes his head. "People were so angry. They were thinking of petitioning the king." He is surprised to learn that even the king is no more and that Loghain has taken his place. "I need to find out what happened. I need to get home, or flee the city." Soris looks at each of us with a slight smile. "Thank you for your aid, strangers. I wish I had more than gratitude to offer you."

When he makes to leave, I stop him. "You're in no shape to just walk out of here. Do you guys have any food on you?" I ask my companions. Andraste only knows if he will have food at home, or wherever he is headed.

Most reluctantly, Sten hands over his bag of cookies. "Take these. You need them far more than I do." Huh? Where was he keeping those?

"What is…?" Soris looks inside the bag and bursts out laughing. "I haven't eaten since I don't know when and now I get cookies? Somebody pinch me."

"Oh, I'll do better than that." His blue eyes grow wide as I cup his face – very handsome under all that grime – in my hands and send a rush of healing energy into him. "How's that?"

He utters a happy sigh. "That was good, thank you. Am I deemed fit to go now?"

"Run along, then." I watch him go, running with the bag clutched to his chest like a treasure. "Thanks for giving him those, Sten. I'll buy you new ones when we get out of here."

"I am much better fed than that elf," he replies. "But I will be looking forward to that, _kadan_." Who is this and what has he done with Sten? Looking forward to something, I never…

Zevran has a pensive look in his eyes. "I wonder what he was talking about, with the angry people and petitioning the king."

"Arl Eamon mentioned something about an elven revolt." Alistair sighs. "No wonder, what with the way they are being treated and all. There is so much wrong with that." Far be it from me to suggest that somebody important like say, the king, could do something about this injustice. The Warden's face is still clouded over when we continue on.


	211. Howe's Estate - The Final Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could it be? Battle described in actual detail?

### Howe's Estate - The Final Room

There is only one more room to go into. That must be where Howe is. Time for me to try out Lifeward; I have a feeling our opponent and his allies will not be defeated very easily. These Spirit Healer spells aren't all that difficult. You basically ask the nice Fade spirits to help you and if you do it correctly, they listen. Easy. I wish I could cast this on the others too, but Lifeward sadly doesn't work that way. Don't ask me why; the book isn't very generous with details. The spell will only last for a short time, so I had better wait. What a damper it would be if the effect wears off just before I die.

I let Alistair take point, because he is so big and strong. He opens the door and surprise, surprise: Howe and his buddies – two heavily armoured and two in mages' robes – are right there waiting for us. The screaming and clatter of weapons must have alerted them. "Well, well," drawls the arl. "The Grey Wardens and their friends… I'm quite surprised Eamon would condone you invading my castle and murdering my men." There is something on his face that might be considered a smile by some, but his eyes remain cold as death. "Is he losing faith in the persuasive powers of his Landsmeet?" His voice is slithery and gross. Yuck.

"We're here for Anora," replies Alistair from between clenched teeth. "You can't kidnap the queen and get away with it." Maker's breath, but that man is imposing when he takes control like this. I don't have to say a word this time.

Howe laughs. "That traitorous bitch has you under her thumb? Anora does love games." His icy gaze sweeps over my colleague's length. "No wonder she would play with a man who looks so much like her late beloved husband." Those dead eyes shift to me and he grins just like I saw him do while I was bickering with Ser Bitch-face. "You should have left when you had the chance, Wardens. Slunk off to the Anderfels to hide with the rest of your kind." His hands fly to the weapons on his back; seems the time for talk is over. "This Landsmeet is a farce," he hisses. "Loghain will triumph and you will _die_!"

I get my shield up just in time to block Howe's jab at my chest and continue hiding behind it while Alistair jumps to my defence. Those mages have to be my first priority; we don't have this fearsome reputation for nothing. I lay down a Glyph of Paralysis on one, leaving only the other. Sten has already engaged one of the warriors, with Zev sneakily getting ready to plunge his daggers into the man's back. That should be a fast and easy job, unless he is wearing chainmail under his armour. The other warrior is on Al, who has absolutely no trouble at all fending off the unwanted attentions of two men.

Focused though he may be on his magic, my target notices me anyway. I'm a split second too late with my Stonefist – which I stupidly only thought of just now – stopping me dead in my tracks. Grinning maliciously, he casts a spell on me I had hoped never to fall victim to: Crushing Prison. My limbs go tense and feel as if they want to remove themselves from my body, while the rest of me appropriately appears to be in a crushing grip. It hurts. My joints make popping sounds. I scream from sheer pain, even though I don't want to.

Thankfully, Alistair and his templar training come to my rescue. He does that wavy thing that gets rid of all magical effects; I'm free again. For once I'm not complaining about him using that particular skill. I drop to my knees and glare up at the mage. "You're dead, motherfucker." Thank the Maker for post-spell cooldowns. I rise and bash my shield into his face, all in one fluid motion, toppling the bastard over. His eyes are wide with fear as I tower over him, shield raised above my head. I bring it down hard. The pointed bottom bites into the soft flesh of his throat; a spray of blood paints me crimson. Just then, the other mage's Glyph wears off. I hate Winter's Grasp, but am glad that apparently he can't do any better than that. I manage to shrug off the cold. A quick look around tells me that only Howe and that other mage are left. For a man his age, the arl is very tough and really, really nimble. I'll let the others handle him.

That fucking mage is mine. But first… I utter the words to conjure a Lifeward; a glowing green glyph appears under my feet and I feel the gentle presence of a Fade spirit around me, ready to heal me when things really go to shit. Good. I rush over to the other mage, but he already saw me coming and dodges my shield. That's quite all right; I hadn't expected this to work twice in a row. Instead I spin right around and skewer the bastard to my blade. Not quite dead, but he is done for.

I turn, just in time to see that filthy serpent take out Alistair and Zevran in one fell swoop. Shit! They fall to the floor, blood gushing from their throats. Howe gloats over his victory; Sten takes this opportunity to attempt chopping off his head. The arl jumps out of his reach. Asala misses him by a hair's breadth. It all happens in the blink of an eye. Hope I'm not too late. My mana is almost gone, so this has to work. It has to. I beg the spirits to return my comrades' souls to their bodies and heal them. Sten is keeping Howe busy all by himself, taking the fucker's attention off me while I pray to the spirits.

Uh oh… Looks like Howe isn't quite as stupid as I'd hoped. His dead eyes shift to me and he tries to get around Sten, who naturally notices this new development. In a rather desperate attempt, our stalwart giant makes another swipe in his direction. Howe dodges this easily, following it up with a kick to a very sensitive place. Sten grimaces; his knees buckle. The arl seems torn between going at me, or finishing off his direct opponent.

Thankfully I'm right on time: Alistair and Zev's eyes open, the bleeding instantly staunched. I quickly follow it up with a group healing spell, allowing Sten to jump right back into the action. Later I'll have to give them all a proper check. The boys jump to their feet, grab their weapons and come to the Qunari's aid. I'm drained. This really can't wait. I chug down the strongest lyrium potion I have and hope that'll be enough.

Chaos. I can hardly see what is going on. It is needless to say, however, that under these superior numbers Howe can never last for too long. Finally, it's done. Covered in bleeding wounds, the man stumbles away. He curses wholeheartedly, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. "Damn you!" he spits. "I deserved more than this." His eyes roll back into his head. He collapses into a messy heap. Victory. Ugh, thank the Maker.


	212. Howe's Estate - Just What I Needed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh, possible tragedy!

### Howe's Estate - Just What I Needed

"Well, I'm glad that's over." I go up to my formerly almost dead companions. "Guys, are you all right?" The door to Anora's room should be open now, what with the mage being dead and all.

Zevran shakes his head. "It was so strange. I saw this bright light and my mother was there…"

"Me too." Alistair nods. "But then it was like, 'Yoink! Not yet, stupid!' And I woke up here."

"I would prefer not to repeat this experience, if at all possible." The elf rubs his throat, where the gushing wound has been reduced to a pale, narrow line. Another scar to add to his collection. He immediately bends down to empty the pockets of the dead. "Aha!" Triumphantly he emerges with a key ring, lined with rusty keys. "This should certainly make things easier." Alistair joins the looting exercise.

I look at Sten, who is silent as always. "Are you all right? Wounded at all?" Howe's vicious kick to the reproductive organs comes to mind and I have to bite my tongue to prevent myself from making a suggestive comment.

"I am fine, _kadan_." The giant fixes his gaze on me. "You are becoming more proficient as a healer."

"You're in a complimenting mood today." It makes me a bit wary. Could he really be all right?

He shrugs. "You are deserving of it." I gawp at him with my mouth open. What? Sten sighs. "I know I was hard on you at first, _kadan_ , but that was a mistake." Gently he lays a hand on my shoulder, as if I might break under too much strength. Could be true. "I must apologize for my behaviour. It was unfair."

"All right, apology accepted." This is making me highly uncomfortable, so I might as well drop the entire subject. "Let's just check out the cells in the back and then get out of here." We will probably have to mow our way through the guards upstairs. Terrific. I hope the prisoners all managed to sneak out without any trouble.

"Who's there?" cries an unknown voice upon our arrival. "Stay away." The speaker is a fairly young man, dressed in tattered fancy gear. "You can't do this to me!" There is a feral look in his eyes. "I'll have you all flayed! I'm the arl of Denerim!"

Oh, another crazy one. "Nice to meet you, Your Lordship." I perform a little curtsy. "I'm the Archon of Tevinter."

"I'm Vaughan Kendells, heir to the arling of Denerim," he tells me, an undertone of sarcasm to his voice. "It's true."

Alistair confirms: "Yes, that looks like him, all right." Good thing he's here, or I would have discounted this one as a random lunatic. "Terrible man," he whispers in my ear. "Be careful."

Kendells comes closer and clutches the bars of his cell. "Too many of our troops were lost at Ostagar; Howe came with men to reinforce the garrison here when the riots started." He scoffs. And what exactly prompted him to say this? "At least, that's what he claimed. Threw me in here as soon as I let him into the place." In an almost perfect imitation of Howe's slithery voice, he drawls: "Another victim of the elven uprising."

"Yes, about that, why did the elves rebel?" As if that isn't obvious. Shitty living conditions, being treated with contempt. Those are only a few examples and not even among the worst.

"You know how elves are." The man chuckles; what a creepy sound that is. "Every now and then they start to think they're people, and you have to put them back in their proper place." Zevran grumbles something in Antivan at this remark. Nothing nice, I would imagine. He's going to hate me for what I have to do.

"A Landsmeet has been called," I inform Kendells. "If I am to let you out, you must give the Grey Wardens your voice. Otherwise you may continue enjoying your stay in there." We need all the votes we can get. Anything to keep Loghain from having us officially executed.

The prisoner rattles his cage like a mad thing. "Of course! Anything, just let me out." Sending me deadly looks, our elf hands me the keys. "I swear, you won't regret this," says Kendells with a grin on his face, finally free. He runs off; from the other room, I can hear him say: "Who's the victim now, ugly cunt? Ha!" Howe _is_ an ugly cunt.

"I know we need his vote, but that man gives me the willies." Alistair shivers.

"Zevran, dearest, will you do me a favour?" I smile sweetly at him, but it doesn't help at all in reducing his obvious ill will towards me.

"What?" he finally growls reluctantly.

With my arm around his shoulders, I ask him: "When the Landsmeet is over, will you kill that guy for me? I think Denerim would be much better off without him." Surely we could find a nicer person to take his place.

His amber eyes grow wide. "Wha…" A wide grin appears on his face. "Why, Warden, I didn't think you had it in you." There, we're friends again. "I would be more than happy to." His features take on a shifty and slightly lewd expression. "Although perhaps, I have a better idea. More effective and less messy." He rubs his hands together with a chuckle. "I can implicate him in a massive scandal; before you know it, he will have been displaced and ruined." I nod. Brilliant. "Just you wait. I have an excellent, excellent scheme in mind." An almost maniacal cackle comes out of his mouth. This must be a very good scheme indeed.

"You two are terrible." Alistair looks at me with a mixture of wariness and admiration, and downright suspiciously at Zevran. "Can't say I disagree, though. His attitude towards elves is awful. And you don't want to know the things I've heard about that man." I kind of do, but this isn't the time. I do love me a bit of juicy gossip. Al turns his attention to a closed cell door. "Let's open this one too." It takes considerable effort to turn the rusty key in the lock, but then the door screeches open and reveals the cell's occupant. A barely clad man is kneeling on the floor, absorbed in prayer. "Uhm, hello?" says Alistair.

The prisoner rises; there is utter bewilderment on his face and abject despair. "Alfstanna? Is that you, little sister?" He must be very far gone to confuse Al with a girl. He shakes his head. "I don't know you. Are you real?" Upon my colleague's question as to his identity, the man tells him his name – Irminric – and his rank in the templars. His sister is a bann; she may even be in the city already for the Landsmeet. He also explains how he came to be imprisoned: having almost caught Jowan near Redcliffe, Loghain's men took the blood mage away and put Irminric in here. I can't imagine what he must be going through. No lyrium means massive discomfort, not to mention the filth and lack of nourishment and clothing in here. "Please, help me," the poor templar begs. He slips a ring off his finger and presses it into Alistair's hand. "Give this to my sister Alfstanna and tell her I'm sorry. Please. Ask her to pray for me." With that, he kneels again and continues his prayer. Nothing Al or I say can make him snap out of it.

"Is there really nothing we can do for him?" My heart breaks at the sight of him. See, if I'd had a cloak, I could have given him that.

"I'm afraid not, little Warden." Alistair wraps his arm around my shoulders. "All we can do is look for his sister and pass on his message." He casts a sad look in the prisoner's direction. "Shall we go?"

We all follow him into the other room. I'm dragging my feet, because I am not looking forward to the guards upstairs. The first thing I notice is how there are only four corpses on the ground. "Where is Howe?"

A wiry arm locks my arms into place and I freeze. "Right here, little girl."

"Oh, shit." A sharp pinch in my stomach. I look down; what is that bit of sword doing sticking out of me? "Oh, _shit_." No pain. Odd. My three companions seem to be frozen. Or has time slowed to a crawl only for me?

"Shit indeed!" Howe laughs and draws his sword arm upwards. This I do feel very well. "I will not make it out of here alive, but neither will you." Searing agony blooms out from around his blade, drawing a path through my body. That impossibly high-pitched shriek is probably coming out of me. Suddenly my neck can no longer support the weight of my head. My chin drops to my chest. Darkness slowly begins to glaze over my sight. Where is that blasted spirit? Now would be an excellent time to heal me. The last thing I see, is the green glyph flickering out of existence. Just what I needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue by Zevran and Alistair about dying lovingly stolen from Neverwinter Nights. Originally uttered by Tomi Undergallows, my favourite henchman (halfling rogue).


	213. Howe's Estate - Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoreth meets somebody she didn't even know existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it like this, because when I first began writing this bloody thing, I had no idea that the human mage origin had relatives and stuff. At some point I'm going to have have to go back and change it all (I'm going to have it printed out and bound). For now this will have to do. Who knows, Astoreth might end up with a different name.

### Howe's Estate - Revelations

Terrific, I'm in the Fade. This is not the time for me to die, damn it. I have so many things to do. Let's hope my body still has a measure of life left in it and they get me to Wynne on time. Thank goodness I found somebody to look after Collin. Oh, I'm not alone. There is a girl here, presumably another mage. Only we dress like this. She looks… like me. How odd. She shoots me a wary look. _"Stai bene?"_ she asks me.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak… Whatever that is." Reminds me of Zevran's outbursts. "Antivan?"

"Correct, that was Antivan." There is only a hint of an accent in her speech. "Are you all right? You look like you're about to flip your lid." Clearly she has her common tongue down to a T.

I shake my head. "Well, I guess I may be dead. Some guy just stabbed me in the gut." And then sliced through my torso like warm butter. How could I still be alive after that? "Fucking Lifeward."

"Lifeward, you say? It has been known to malfunction from time to time." The girl shrugs. "The spirit loses its focus and runs off to do other, spiritsy things." She smiles pityingly. "Some of them have the attention span of a dead gnat. Not been reading the manual very well, I see."

"Bullshit! I've read every little word in those pages and I'm positive it said absolutely nothing about the spell not working." I glare at her for assuming I'm a lazy student.

Her gaze takes on a pensive look, until she snaps her fingers. "Oh, I know! You must have an older edition. If I were you, I would go back to wherever you bought that thing and smack them with it."

"Can't very well do that if I'm dead." This is not how I expected everything to go. I was going to help defeat the Blight and now I won't even see that stupid Landsmeet I was worrying about. Shit, what about Alistair? He has been gaining confidence, but I don't know if that will be enough. The others are still there to support him, of course. He will be fine. He will have no choice. The ending of the Blight depends on him now. And Riordan. Thank goodness we found him.

"Oh, you're not dead." My companion waves her hand in a dismissive gesture; her nails are painted a shiny, lurid red. "The spell will work eventually. Just have some patience." Inquisitively she looks me up and down. "It's like looking into a mirror," she mutters, her voice disbelieving. "My name is Astarte, by the way."

I shake her extended hand. "I'm Astoreth." True, it is a bit like looking into a mirror. Except that she appears to be much better groomed than I am. Maybe painted nails would look nice on me too. Who am I kidding? That shit is going to chip in under a minute, the way I'm carrying on.

"No!" Her mouth falls open. "Amell?" She clasps her hands together against her chest when I nod. "I had thought I would never see you again." Suddenly her arms are crushing the life out of me; I hug her back, though I have no idea where this enthusiasm is coming from. Or how I should know her.

"This is going to sound awfully rude, but do I know you?"

Astarte promptly lets me go. "Get out of here! Don't you recognise your own sister?" She glares at me. It's that ultra shiny deluxe death glare I patented ages ago. Her features crumple. "You really don't remember anything, do you?" A comfortable-looking, luxurious couch appears out of nowhere, upon which my sister – this is going to take some getting used to – sits herself down. "Come, sit with me." She pats the empty place beside her.

"I… didn't know I had any relatives." Maker's breath, I have a sister! Unlike Al's bitter experience, she seems kind and welcoming enough. This is a nice couch. "I'm sorry if I seem cold. I just… Pfff, this is so unexpected."

"I understand. Shall I tell you more about yourself?" She continues upon my nod: "You were born in 3 Dragon-…"

I make a face. "Ew, I'm old." And here I'd always thought I wasn't _that_ far over twenty. "You know, nobody would ever tell me anything about my past. They kept it all a mystery."

"I'm only a year younger than you," she huffs. "We are certainly not old. And will you please stop interrupting me?"

"Excuse me, princess." I raise my hands. "Go on, I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Yeah, right, you and keeping your mouth shut," laughs my sister. Hey, I can be quiet. "In any case, the Amells are a noble house in Kirkwall and if your Circle didn't tell you anything, my guess is they did that because they don't want you to think you're better than the other mages." She pauses and eyes me expectantly. "Seems like you do know how to shut up and listen. Anyway, all was well, until you started showing signs of magical talent at age eight." Astarte snorts and giggles. "The templars had to carry you out kicking and screaming!" She smiles. "When my time came, not much later, I didn't struggle at all, because I thought I would get to see you again." Her smile fades and the look in her eyes hardens. "Do you know where they sent me? They sent me to fucking Antiva! I had to learn a new language and everything." Astarte shakes her head. "Poor mother…"

"What about our father?" I can't help but butt in anyway.

"He's never been in our lives." Hmm… Is she as slutty as yours truly? If we weren't given our father's family name, then maybe yes. Wow. Astarte crosses her legs and stares into empty space. "We mages are cut off from our families, separated from one another, denied any form of contact. No letters, no visits, nothing. We have another brother and sister, did you know that?" Her eyes drift back to me. "Ishtar and Icarus are twins, practically joined at the hip; they were still there when I had to go, but I don't doubt that the Circle separated them when it was their turn. Cruel bastards."

I don't only have a sister, I have another sister and a brother too. This is such good news! And to think I only had to die to get it. "This is a lot to take in. Why do we all have such weird names?" I have always been curious about that.

"Mother has always had a flare for drama, courtesy of her love of literature and obscure history." She shrugs. "You and I were named after Tevinter magisters from I-don't-know-when; Ishtar is a goddess from some long-forgotten culture and Icarus comes from some book or other. I think it makes us stand out, don't you?"

"Ha yeah, that it does." The other mages who laughed at my name and called me "Ass" were just jealous. Neener. "So uh, what are you up to nowadays?" Don't know what else I can say, really.

Astarte proudly straightens her shoulders. "I just passed the tests to become senior enchantress. You are looking at the lady who is in charge of the Antivan Circle's laboratory, as of last week."

"Aw, congratulations!" I hug her, which seems to make her very happy. Goodness gracious, I have a sister. A nice one. I can hardly believe it.

"Thanks. Ugh, I had to clear out a huge infestation of giant spiders yesterday." She rolls her eyes and chuckles. "Massive pain in the ass, that was. I could have let some of my pupils do it, but I'm not scared of some overly large creepy crawlies." Why does that sound so familiar? "Well, at least I have a much prettier uniform now. I painted my nails to go with it, see?"

"Yes, that looks really nice." I wistfully inspect my own fingernails. Some of them are torn, most of them are ragged. Not pretty.

My sister also looks at them. "What are they making you do, scrub the bathrooms or something?"

"No. I had to join the Grey Wardens." I nestle into the comfy cushions to tell her my long, tedious story. "Turned out he wasn't dead; Howe skewered me to his sword and now my body is lying on the dirty floor of his dungeon," I conclude my adventures.

"You'll be out of there in no time and back to your little boy. I hope I get to meet my nephew someday." She all but jumps on me. "We had better cuddle while we still have the chance." With her head resting against my chest and her arms around my waist, she muses: "You know, I've been with a templar too, but I was wise enough to take precautions. See, what you do is, you take half a lemon and squeeze it, then insert it cut side first into your lady parts until it blocks your womb. Works like a charm." She sticks up her thumb. "But you have to wash really well after that, because it can cause a nasty infection. Learned _that_ the hard way."

I laugh and run my fingers through her hair. It's so shiny. "I'll be sure to remember that." But I won't do it. No lemon halves blocking my womb, no ser. "So how did you and that templar get together?"

"We were horny," she replies matter-of-factly. "One day it just happened. I looked at him, he looked at me and before I knew it, I was bent over his desk."

A desk? I know only one templar who might need his own desk. "So, was this the Knight-Commander, then?" How scandalous.

An impish smile appears on her face. "Absolutely. We went at it like teenage bunnies just out of prison until he was transferred elsewhere." Ew, now I suddenly see myself bent over Greagoir's desk. No. Nuh-uh. Then again, who knows what he's hiding under his armour? He's not ugly. On the other hand, I don't have any daddy issues that make me seek out older men. Just curiosity. Astarte snuggles up closer. "Oh, those Antivans… They are true to their reputations and then some." She looks up at me and winks. "Once they start whispering in your ear, well, that's all she wrote."

"Uhuh, I know." Prompted by her quizzically raised eyebrow – not a single hair out of place – I explain: "We have an Antivan elf travelling with us. He is a god in the bedroom." Didn't I tell him that this morning? Heh. Come to think of it, what is taking that bloody spirit? I feel like I have been here for hours and hours. But I forget that time passes differently in the Fade. Any way it wants to, really.

"Elves are so eager," my sister chuckles, licking her lips. "They really aim to please. And those ears are so cute, aren't they?"

"It's creepy how much we have in common." I feel a bit faint, all of a sudden. "Ugh..."

Astarte seems to look right through me. "You're going back. Guess that spirit finally managed to pull its head out of its ass." She sits up. "Good luck. Try to find me sometime." From far away: "And ask your damned Circle why you don't remember anything!"


	214. Howe's Estate - The Blue out of Her Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out our heroine isn't dead after all. Anora is a bitch as usual.

### Howe's Estate - The Blue out of Her Eyes

"Maker, I should have been quicker."

"Alistair, please, there is nothing you could have done. Nothing any of us could have done. It all happened too quickly. At least we made that son of a bitch pay."

"Quiet. She is still breathing."

"What? That's not possible. She was almost sliced in two!"

"No, Sten is right. It's faint and rattling, but it's there."

"Aster? Are you-… Hey look, she's mending a bit."

Finally I can open my eyes. Fuck, it's like I'm made of pain. Too weak to cast a healing spell. A feeling of regret fills my being. _Yes, you had better be sorry._ Shame. _Just don't let it happen again._ Relief. Gratitude. The spirit is gone. Bah, what a boob. Never again. It couldn't even be bothered to do a better healing job. Sten kneels beside me. "We were afraid we had lost you, _kadan_." He looks immensely relieved. Weird. His fingertips glide down the side of my face. Even weirder.

"Well, _somebody_ isn't quite as stoic as he makes himself out to be," says Alistair. His handsome face hovers over me. An even more welcome sight than usual. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, woman." His voice is stern, as if I got stabbed by Howe on purpose. I'll remember this.

"Don't be ridiculous, Alistair." Now Zevran appears above me. "Warden? How do you feel?" I try to speak, but cough instead. The taste of blood fills my mouth. That does not taste like regular blood. Ugh, vile. My breathing sounds like a veritable death rattle. Fabulous. I hear the pop of a vial being uncorked. "I will try to pour this healing draught directly onto your wounds." The liquid burns. "That does not have the effect that it should." He bends over me and sniffs. "That rat-bastard used poison. Smells like a concentrated Mage Bane." He sniffs again. "But not quite. This must be a variation that is unknown to me."

My fellow Warden scoffs. "Great Crow you are, Zev, really fantastic."

"Hey, it is not my fault Astoreth couldn't be bothered to put more points into my poison-…"

"Enough chatter!" booms Sten. He gently picks me up. "Rather than complain, we have to take action." There is worry in his eyes as he looks down on me. "Your healer must look after you, _kadan_." I think somebody stole Sten's body and is living inside it. Somebody who actually gives a toss about me. "Let's act quickly." Couldn't agree more.

~*|'-'|*~

Ow. I can feel every step that Qunari takes and it isn't pleasant. He is trying his best to keep me perfectly still, I know, but I'm aching all over. I have this urge to go to sleep, but Sten keeps me awake. I might not wake up again, he says. Back on the ground floor. This should be good.

"What are we to do now? That disguise isn't going to work twice." Alistair frets and paces, running his hands through his hair. "We're one woman down and there are a ton of Howe's guards here."

Sten carefully lowers me to the ground, where I can slump against a wall. "I suggest we wipe them all out and return for her later." He wags a stern finger in my face. "Do not fall asleep, _kadan_. Fight the urge."

"I-…" I cough again and spit out some blood. The pain is making me grimace. "I'm not making any promises."

"We will be back before you know it," says Zevran, a nervous smile on his lips.

Alistair adds: "And that _is_ a promise. Let's go." And so they leave me behind.

Well, that seemed rather grim. I think my possibly dying is really pissing Alistair off. Maybe I should give up just to spite him. No. That is ridiculous. The blood loss must be getting to me. I have to hold on. The more Grey Wardens we have against the archdemon and its army, the better our chances. Think of happy things. Oh, I know… My sister. When I can talk without hacking out my lungs again, I will tell Alistair of her. Maybe I could someday even go to Antiva and visit her myself. She seems awesome. Can't wait to get to know her better. Where would the twins have been taken? Orlais? Rivain? I don't even know how old they are. Not little children anymore, surely. And our mother. I know nothing of her whatsoever. Or my father, for that matter, but apparently I never have. Would _she_ still be alive, at least?

I wonder why I don't remember anything. Maybe I repressed the memories to make things easier. Maybe something happened to make me lose them. Maybe _they_ even made me lose them somehow. Who knows? I'll ask Irving or Greagoir, when I have the chance to go back. They will give me answers. I'm no longer with the Circle, so why wouldn't they? To fuck with me after that stupid stunt with my favourite blood mage, of course. We'll see. I'll still have to face Jowan too. Not looking forward to that. I'm sure I can get Alistair to come along and hold my hand, or whatever.

I hope my friends are all right. Sure they are. They are fine without me. All I do is wave around my sword and cast the occasional healing spell. They took all the potions with them. No problem. How long could it take to kill a bajillion guards, right? I want to be far away from here. I want to be healed. No matter how lazy and out of shape I've always been, I wasn't meant to be a weak, whimpering sack of damaged organs. The rattle in my breath isn't a good sign. Chest pains. My heart is racing. The tips of my fingers appear to be going blue. I'm getting worse. Also, I am quite sure these robes are ripe for the garbage bin. Pity. The enchantments on them are amazing.

Thank goodness. Here comes the cavalry. "The way is clear." Sten gently picks me up once more.

"Good." I nestle myself into his arms. Might as well make good use of the situation. Who knows, it might be the last time.

"We've only got to free Anora and then we'll be out of here." Alistair strokes my cheek. "Hang in there, little Warden."

We arrive at Her Majesty's cell to find her and Erlina already waiting for us. The queen looks so very ridiculous in that guard's uniform. "Maker's breath! What happened to _you_?" she asks, looking at my bloody state.

"Howe," is all I manage to say, before I start coughing again. I'm just going to shut up now.

Anora shows Alistair a nod. "No time to waste. I'll trust you to lead us out safely."

Finally. I'm sure Wynne will set me right and I will be back to running around like a headless chicken in no time. This time it's not even because I did something rash and/or stupid. Oh, wonderful. Isn't that Ser Bitch-face over there? With a whole heap of soldiers? Just what the doctor didn't order at all. "Wardens!" she thunders. "In the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms." Her gaze becomes uneasy upon the sight of me, but her manner doesn't betray it. "Surrender and you may be shown mercy."

Alistair steps forward. "We're here to free Anora, who was being held captive also in the name of your precious regent." That mean look on his face doesn't become him.

"Don't be ridiculous," scoffs Cauthrien. "Her father would never stand for the queen being held captive, here or anywhere else."

"She's right there." Alistair looks behind him, where the queen and her servant must be hiding out somewhere. "Tell her, Anora."

Her Majesty comes trotting in with Erlina on her heel. "Ser Cauthrien! Praise the Maker you're here," she sighs. "These brigands tried to kidnap me!" Uh-oh. I will remember this too. Thanks for nothing, you royal bitch.

The female knight shakes her head. "Unbelievable. Bring them down!" She and her men ready their weapons. "Loghain wants the Wardens, dead or alive."

Sten growls and clutches me tighter. "Clearly this Warden is no condition to fight you."

"Open your eyes, Cauthrien," Alistair hisses. "Look at her! She'll die if you throw us in jail."

"Not my problem." Her voice isn't as unwavering as she pretends to be. Half-dead as I am, I can still tell.

My colleague grunts. "She was right: you are nothing but a stupid dog, following your master's orders." He drops his sword and shield. "Fine. Take me, but let the others go."

"You are _both_ coming with me." With a curt gesture of her head, she has Sten give me to Alistair. Zevran and Sten are staring daggers at Her Majesty. Alistair is giving off non-verbal death threats. I am mentally cursing her. That bitch. If I survive this, I'm going to smack the blue out of her eyes.


	215. Howe's Estate - So Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Wardens find themselves in Fort Drakon, stripped of all their gear. Astoreth really is in no condition for this nonsense.

### Howe's Estate - So Sorry

"Where are we?" Blood splatters from my lips as I cough some more. The trip here was fifty shades of awful – just like a certain book I once read. We were loaded into a cart; I felt every fucking stone in that wobbly thing. If it hadn't been for Alistair keeping me awake with constant nudging and questions, I would have passed out ages ago. Not only are we in some sort of prison, we were also stripped of all our gear. My robes, fused to my wound, had to be pulled off with force. The guy doing the stripping was none too gentle. My wound has reopened, though I'm not even really sure if it ever has stopped bleeding. This draining sensation is unpleasant, to say the least.

"Fort Drakon." Alistair sighs, cradling me in his arms. The floor is cold and rough, but he is kind enough to let me sit on his lap. Or lie limply on his lap, rather. "I can't keep doing this." His face is streaked crimson, his hands like red gloves. "I can't keep mourning for those who are important to me."

I touch my hand to his face, my arm impossibly heavy. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm all right; this blood is all yours." His eyes are brimming with tears; he blinks hard to get rid of them. "Please, don't die." There is such pain in his voice and in his gaze. Poor thing. "I need you to stay with me."

"No, you don't." I lay my fingers on his lips when he makes to protest. "Listen." Another coughing fit racks my body. Ow. "You can do this, Alistair. Whether I'm here or not, you have the strength to carry the world on your shoulders if you have to." I spit out some of the blood that keeps bubbling up through my throat. Yeah, if I could just be a tad less disgusting for only five minutes, that would be great. "Whatever you are going to do, whatever you choose to be, you will be great at it. All right?" Maker's breath, I feel so weak. Surely someone will come to rescue us. Eventually. I have a feeling Sten will be here soon. He looked ready to jump at Anora's lily-white throat. How oddly kind he was to me today. And Stubbs. The poor beast will be so worried about me.

Al nods, chewing his lower lip. "I wish I could have the same faith in me that you do."

"Stop being so insecure." I weakly punch his arm. "Forget what the Chantry did to you, forget your past. Haven't we kicked serious amounts of darkspawn ass? Haven't we killed dragons together?" His smile does wonders for my spirit. "What's one more dragon to you, huh?"

"How do you always do this?" Al laughs, a wayward tear escaping from his eye. "How can you lie here, barely alive, and make me feel so much better?"

I shrug. "That-…" Cough, cough. "That is the power of friendship, sweetie." I cup his face in my hands, ignoring the lead in my arms. "Will you promise me something?" My voice trails off. Breathing is becoming more and more difficult.

"Whatever you want." My fellow Warden cradles me closer to his chest. "Anything."

"Help Helena look after Collin." I'm so sleepy. "Please?" I have to close my eyes. The lids are too heavy to keep up.

Even Alistair's sharp slap to my cheek can't make me open my eyes. "Aster, no! I promise I'll look after him, but I won't have to. Because you'll be fine." He presses his lips to mine; I can't even muster the strength to kiss him back. "I love you so much." I love you too. Afraid I'm not going to pull through. I'm sorry, Collin. So sorry.


	216. Howe's Estate - Awakenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That Harrowing was a piece of cake.

### Howe's Estate - Awakenings

I'm lying on something soft. A bed? Yes, but not my own bed. It feels… softer, but still familiar. My half-awake brain is utterly useless. For a moment I hear a sweet woman's voice singing, accompanied by a lute. It soon dies away. That was weird. I open my eyes and see my beloved's smiling face, hovering over me. "So, how was it?" he asks. "A piece of cake, right?"

I sit up and laugh. "They call _that_ a Harrowing? Bitch, please." Mouse the rage demon, Valour, the sloth demon, they can all drop down a very deep well as far as I'm concerned. I lick my lips as I look my man up and down. Those yellow robes look so sexy on him even though I thoroughly dislike yellow; sadly, now that I'm no longer an apprentice, I will have to wear that ghastly colour too. Oh, well. "So, where am I, exactly?"

"Heh, I forget you've never seen the place during the day." Jowan laughs. "This is your new room, which you just happen to be sharing with me."

"Nice." I settle into the many cushions. "Whose knob did you have to polish to make this happen?"

"Just Greagoir's and Irving's," replies my beloved, ostentatiously wiping his mouth. "They really need to eat more fruit."

The mental image makes me shudder. "Ew, I'm sorry I asked." Old men are not sexy. I've seen a few too many crumbs in Irving's beard to have wet dreams about him. Greagoir though, hmmm… Not so sure if he's all that disgusting. He must exercise a lot, as a templar.

"Oh, you know I'm only joking." Chuckling at his own humour, my sweet mage joins me in bed and wraps me in his arms. "I think this calls for a celebration, don't you?" he murmurs, kissing my neck.

I soon find my wrists caught in his hand, the other working at the various closures of my robes. "I agree, love." I moan under his tender kisses. They set me on fire. "You are just full of bright ideas."

"Aren't I always?" His obvious arousal pokes into my belly. "My little princess, a full mage. I'm so proud of you." He nibbles a path down my throat and now fully exposed chest. When he releases me, I promptly lay my hands on his head and nudge him a bit lower. I love what he can do to me with his tongue. "Mmm, you do deserve a special treat," he chuckles. Two fingers slide into me, curling up against that special spot inside. I cry out as soon as his tongue touches my clit. Slowly, slowly he licks me and steadily builds up the pressure in my gut. His fingers treat me to an expert fucking motion. Sweet Maker, this man is such an artist in the bedroom. My long-awaited climax makes me scream out my pleasure, not caring who might hear. The waves rip through me like a hurricane. I'm still half-dazed when his thick cock slips into me. "You did a great job, Tori," he breathes into my ear, giving slow thrusts. "Cullen told me it's the cleanest, quickest Harrowing he's ever seen."

Cullen. I instantly find my intimate muscles tightening. "Why was he there?" My favourite templar, looking all gloomy during Greagoir's big speech. Gloom or no, he still looked utterly fuckable. Jowan knows I feel like this too. But, and he is awesome like that, I am perfectly allowed to work up an appetite outside, as long as I have my dinner at home. So to speak.

"Oh, you know…" Jowan picks up his pace. "To chop off your head, in case you become an abomination." With laboured grunts he pounds into me with all his might; I wrap my legs around his waist and drag my nails down his back. "Such enthusiasm," chuckles my lover. As I look up at him, toiling away at his labour of love, an overwhelming feeling of sadness washes over me. Before long, I am bawling like a baby. There is something utterly wrong here, but I don't know what. "I'm sorry, princess, am I hurting you?" He abruptly stops his thrusts and strokes my face, worry in his eyes.

"No, I don't know what-…" A sharp, stabbing pain in my nose cuts off my words. "Ow! What the fuck was that?" I touch my fingers to the afflicted area, expecting them to come away bloody. Nothing. The stabbing sensation has been replaced by a throbbing ache. "Does my nose look funny to you?"

Jowan smiles and pecks me on the nose. "It looks perfectly adorable to me, my love." And just like that, the pain is gone. I'm not going to spend too much time wondering about it, as there is so much celebrating to do.

Afterwards, I am comfortably nestled in Jowan's arms while he snores in my ear. What was that? Why was I suddenly so sad? It makes no sense. This is a happy day. I'm finally a full mage. I can take classes with the grown-ups now. Yeah, great fun. Something is wrong. But what? What am I missing? I had better take a walk, try to clear my head.

My beloved awakens when I get up. "You're not going anywhere," he says with a mischievous smile and pulls me back into bed. Well, I guess I could always try to clear my head later.

~*|'-'|*~

Later is much later. Five times later. Where does that boy get all this energy? Not that I'm complaining. This time my departure doesn't wake him up. Whew, I must be knackered; my vision is slightly hazy. And where is everybody? This is odd. Was there an outing planned that I knew nothing of? Nah, that can't be. They would never let us outside, even with a ton of templars with us.

Huh. I don't remember the chambers being so sparsely furnished. A refurbishment, maybe? Then there should be people working. I'm getting a bad feeling about this. Or was it always like this? Maybe I'm simply going mad. 'Simply'. There is nothing simple about going mad, I would think. My shoulder stings. What is it now, hmm? More phantom pains? Oh, a miracle! I'm not all alone after all.

A guy I've never seen before is leaning against a pillar. "Strange, isn't it?" He casually cleans under his fingernails with the tip of his dagger. "Where are all your fellow mages?"

"Maybe they all had to pee at the same time." There is something about this man. His face, the sound of his voice. I feel as if I should know him, but I couldn't possibly. It is obvious from his leather armour and daggers that he isn't a mage; we rarely get any visitors and I've never been outside. I'm sure I wouldn't forget such a ruggedly handsome specimen. "Who are you?"

"You don't remember me?" He sends me a mock wounded look. "I'm hurt." Wow, he has beautiful eyes, the colour of amber. Lovely.

I'm trying to remember, but I can't. My head is starting to throb. "You're full of it. I've never seen you before." Haven't I? I remember… Soggy ground under my feet. Cold turning to a comfortable warmth. A beautiful girl with yellow eyes. The taste of blood and screams in my ear. With a gasp I wake up in my new bed. That was weird.

"Are you all right?" Jowan murmurs in my ear. "Looked like you were having a bad dream." His hand slips between my thighs. "Let me help you forget all about it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems weird, yes? Bear with me.


	217. Howe's Estate - You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, so that is what is going on.

### Howe's Estate - You Again

I'm sure something is wrong. Just can't put my finger on what it is. It's like… I don't know. Like I've been here before, but it was different. Jowan seems different too, like he wants to distract me with sex. I have to leave him behind. Just for a little while. My shoulder is itching now. Ugh. Damned mosquitos. Quietly I pull my robes back on and sneak out of the room. Why is everything so hazy?

There is that guy again. "You're beginning to see something is wrong, aren't you?" he says, a tone of triumph to his voice. "You've only got to concentrate."

I concentrate and wince at the ache in my head. "It's not fucking working. Can't just you just tell me?" My nose feels wet; this time my fingers do come away bloody. I just wipe away the blood with my sleeve. Because fuck manners.

He shakes his head. "Afraid not, sweetheart. You wouldn't believe me if I did."

"Thanks for nothing, Mr. Random." Who is this anyway? Maybe this is all just a bizarre dream. Maybe I was possessed by a demon and never even finished my Harrowing. _Are you all right? Say something, please._ Hold on. I remember waking up in the Apprentice's Quarters. Jowan was there. He was still in blue, still an apprentice. Is that a dream I had? _I admit that I dabbled! I thought it would make me a better mage!_ Blood magic. Jowan would never do that, would he? Wait, yes, he would and he did. There was somebody else. A young woman, in Chantry robes. Rose? Violet? No, Lily. _Get away from me, blood mage._ He ran, she stayed. I was taken away. I can't help but laugh. I'm a Grey Warden. I survived the Joining and Daveth here didn't. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd moved on."

Daveth shrugs. "Changed my mind at the very last minute." He crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans against a wall. "You're important. I'd prefer not to show myself, but this time I really had no choice. Without you there are going to be way too many lost souls hanging around here and we can't have that." The Fade. Of course. That is the haziness, the reason there is nobody else here but Jowan and me. Why waste energy on something that might not be seen anyway? Daveth is an intruder here, the only other thing that is clear. My head feels so much better now that the block is gone. My companion chuckles. "Alistair is important too, but he doesn't want anything to do with me. I tried to talk to him once, but he said – and I quote this literally: 'Get your filthy paws out of my purse!' He didn't even _have_ a purse." He rolls his eyes.

I laugh. That sounds like Alistair, all right. It's so weird, though. "I swear, it's like you and Jory switched brains. He was going on and on about doing his duty, then you bravely choke on some darkspawn blood and he tries to weasel out." I shake my head. "I've always wondered about that, you know." Still seems odd.

The thief grins his white teeth bare. "I can be honourable like that."

"Well, I guess it's time for me to wake up, then." Nothing happens. "Shit! I'm dead!" I throw my hands in the air and pace about the deceptively real stone floor. "They didn't get me to a healer on time and now I'm dead. Fabulous."

"Oh, no, dear creature," says an eerie feminine voice. I turn around and see a familiar figure. The desire demon from the tower. "You are very much alive. But you deserve a break from all those strenuous Grey Warden activities." She haughtily shoos Daveth away. He only stands and stares. "Be gone, spirit. This one is mine." Her clawed hand strokes my face. "How much fun you are, creature. So easy to please." Suddenly she has become Jowan. "All you desire is a man who loves you, who will worship you with his body." His voice is mixed with hers, a hint of violet in his blue eyes. And here I thought I was creating all of this myself.

"Or perhaps two men who love you, no?" Cullen has appeared behind me. I feel my knees go weak as he presses his strong body against me, but I know both he and Jowan are none other than that demon. "Forget, my darling," the lookalike coos in my ear.

The Jowan-copy smiles down at me, stroking my face. "Stay with us and be happy."

Happy? As if some sham of an existence could ever make me happy. My blood comes to a boiling point. "You need to stop with your bullshit," I hiss, clamping my hands around the demon's throat and wrestling him, her, it to the ground. My thumbs dig deep into soft flesh. Fake Cullen has vanished into thin air. "I should never have let you go," I growl, squeezing harder. My knee holds the creature down. "I should have just killed you and your precious little templar." How could I have been so stupid? Playing the nosy neighbour to gauge his happiness… What am I, a fucking comedian?

The demon's appearance shifts between various forms, until she finally looks like herself. "Please," she gasps. "Let me go. All I want is to see the world through mortal eyes."

"And that is exactly what I don't want!" The bitch won't leave me alone until she is dead, or whatever it is that happens to demons. This must end now.

Or maybe not. Her eyes flare up. "You are using violence against me." She chuckles – an ominous sound – and suddenly I am thrown off her by a strong surge of energy. "My oath not to harm you and yours is now void." The demon elegantly rises to her feet. Her illusion of Kinloch Hold is no more. The barren wastelands of the Fade surround us. She lunges toward me and slashes at me with her sharp claws, quick as greased lightning.

I jump out of the way; a shimmering shield appears around me. A gift from the Arcane Warrior, suddenly bestowed upon me in my time of need. How convenient. It's not convenient how it seems to be eating my mana like Sten eats cookies, though. "I'm not the weak little girl you met in the tower, bitch!" Better cut this short. I immediately conjure a Cone of Cold, making her freeze up and shriek with rage. Daveth chooses this moment to jump into the fray. He slashes at her immobile form with his daggers. Each cut makes an oddly crispy, crunchy sound. Judging from her howling, she doesn't like it much.

I move well back, creating some distance between us. She's frozen _and_ Daveth is going to town on her. I'm perfectly safe. Fuck with me, will she? This will be the last time. Once more I summon that fist of stone, pebbles and rocks gathering into a great mass. Can't beat the classics. I hope. "Daveth," I warn him. "Out of the way." He promptly dives to the side. The Stonefist hits the demon right in the diaphragm, with spectacular effect. She explodes; the shards quickly evaporate. This is it. I will never see her again. Hopefully. The Fade is a weird place with its own bizarre set of rules. I should have done this much, much sooner. Ugh. No use crying over spilled milk.

My companion puts away his weapons, grinning from ear to ear. "I'd almost forgotten how good it feels to kick some ass." Suddenly he picks me up in a massive bear hug, almost squeezing the air out of my lungs. "Aw, I missed you."

"I-missed-you-too-please-don't-kill-me," I choke out. I sigh when he sets me down. That's better.

"Sorry, doll, it gets lonely here sometimes." He looks around. "It's too dangerous to just muck about in the open." Daveth bends down to press a tender kiss to my lips. "I'll come around if you need me. Now get out of here."

Sound advice if ever I heard any.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Makes way more sense. This concludes this part of the adventures of Astoreth and co. If you're wondering what was going on with the others in the meantime, try reading The Dog's Diary.


	218. Interlude - The Qunari's Conundrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before we move on to the next part of our heroine's adventures, we have this. Sten's behaviour is getting increasingly strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, some people over on Fan Fiction have been clamouring for this. Or actually what might result from this. Sounds painful to me, but let it never be said that I'm not accommodating. We all know how Astoreth enjoys a challenge.

### Interlude - The Qunari's Conundrum

He has begun having dreams of her lately. Her delicate skin bruised from his rough touch, she is still begging him for more; he is more than happy to give it to her. She mewls like a kitten as her soft, wet flesh stretches apart to grant him access. Somehow he is fully buried in her, embraced by her moist walls. He isn't gentle with her now either. She loves it. Her pleasured screams ring in his ears and her nails drag down his back as he fucks her with wild abandon. Closer and closer his ending approaches, the muscles in his core tightening. This is usually the part where he wakes up, more often than not covered in his own seed.

Sten sits up and cradles his head in his hands. He doesn't understand his desire for her. At first he discarded her as little more than a child, playing at being a Grey Warden. Reckless, foolish, impulsive. And a _Bas Saarebas_ to make it even worse. But she has proven herself capable to stand in battle with him. Against him, even, although her magic gives her an unfair edge. Not that the same point couldn't be made of his sheer size and strength as opposed to her short stature. She learns quickly, wielding sword and shield with ever increasing expertise.

There is more to the woman than martial and magical prowess, however. Becoming a mother has calmed her down considerably, brought out her tender, caring side even more. Sten can attest to that personally. The worry was plain to see in her eyes as she examined him, thinking he was ill. He certainly was feeling ill, but it had nothing to do with the cold she suspected. The gentle firmness of her massaging hands had his mind reeling. He was fighting the urge to grab the girl's small body and skewer her to his raging hard-on. Sten grunts. He was a fool to listen to that dog; he should never have gone through her belongings. Finding her plaything, the scent of her sex still clinging to the metal, has been his undoing.

It is her scent that haunts him. Not her well-rounded figure in clinging, revealing robes, accentuating all the right places; not the tiny whimpers bubbling up from her throat as he had happened upon her pleasuring herself in the woods and stayed to watch; not even the feel of her soft body in his arms as she sobbed by the fire. When was it that he began to hold the Grey Warden in such high esteem? Upon the return of Asala, of course. A seemingly impossible task – a needle in a haystack, as humans would say – and she accomplished it as if it had been no more difficult than breathing. From that day on she was no longer a foolish little girl, but his _kadan_.

It was as if up until that moment he'd had scales before his eyes, only to be removed after the act she had performed out of the kindness of her heart. She was in no way obligated to return his sword, his soul to him. Most wouldn't have, after the way he had treated her. The Grey Warden has, in a way, kindled a measure of affection in him. But that is the strange part. It is not the Qunari way to engage in sexual acts as an expression of affection. Sexual acts are merely a tool for reproduction. They aren't even truly pleasurable. Sten wasn't lying to Morrigan about that. The armour, the helmet, the hot poker, yes, those were lies. Not the lack of pleasure to the Qunari act. He had taken absolutely no enjoyment in being in the breeding programme.

He has caught himself wondering more than once why humans place so much value on expressing themselves in such a physical manner. These millions of _Bas_ can't all be wrong, unenlightened though they are. Perhaps if done right… Sten shakes his head. No. Worrying about all this serves him no purpose. In his folly he gave his _kadan_ some of his blood to restore her to health and this has proved disastrous; it nearly killed her. Thankfully, her colleague's blood did manage to restore some colour to her ashen cheeks. And yet her situation has not improved. The Grey Warden still lies unconscious. She may still die. Her faithful hound refuses to leave her side for more than a few moments. The giant has the sneaking suspicion that if his master dies, the mabari will soon follow after.

Sten steps out of bed, absently dresses. It has been days and the woman has not woken. Her physician tells them her vital signs are in good order. So why is she still sleeping? Nobody knows. It might be her mind keeping her under, to help her body heal quicker. She has been through much, even though she has been determined not to show it. Finding her in tears by the campfire nearly broke his heart. Aware of the human fondness of touch, Sten cradled her against his chest and rocked her until she was no longer crying. Astounding how effective these nursery techniques – as he has seen the Tamassran perform – could be on an adult.

He likes to think that it has helped her, considering how she has secretly become romantically (or maybe only physically?) involved with her fellow Warden. Perhaps the Qunari had already become all too attached to her when he heard the amorous sounds through the door of her bedroom. Of course he could have returned later to give the girl the repaired item he had damaged in their duel, but instead, Sten had decided to interrupt their activities. Her appearance at the door – dishevelled, dismayed and barely dressed – had confused him. There was something about the fire in her eyes that spoke to him in some primordial way, or was it something else entirely? Now that he thinks back on it, it was then that he had picked up the scent of her sex for the first time. It was only that he didn't know what it was.

And now here he is, confused and annoyed at his desire for her. Will he ever be rid of it? He doesn't know. Truly, genuinely doesn't know. It may well be that the only cure for this condition is a fulfilment of his desires, which hardly even seems an option. While he could have gone with the others and taken his mind off this quandary, Sten has opted to meditate on the issue instead. And in his heart of hearts, he is still hoping she will wake up with only him there to receive the good news. He can hardly imagine a better moment to inform her of his wishes, if he can find the words. The giant isn't even sure whether it would be a good idea to tell her. Probably not. The Grey Warden barely reaches up to his chest; odds are that relations between them would be physically impossible. But oh, how he would like to put this to the test.

Suddenly he finds himself outside her chambers. When did he even leave his room? Sten shakes his head. This is getting ridiculous. Then he hears her voice and shakes his head again. Could it be? The Qunari pushes open the door; he freezes. There she is, wide awake and speaking to her dog, with her healer looking on in amusement. The mabari immediately notices him and finds it necessary to alert his mistress to his presence. The healer, who appears to be intimidated by Sten without ever having been given a proper reason, mumbles an excuse and leaves. The hound runs up to Sten: "The lady is awake!" He rubs himself against the giant's legs. "Aren't you happy now? I'm _so_ happy! Yay!"

The Grey Warden looks at her faithful hound and smiles. "Aw, you've become such good friends, haven't you?" The sound of her voice, after such a long silence, is like beautiful music. Her eyes flit to Sten; the shallow wrinkles next to them deepen.

"Yes," replies the mabari with his tongue happily lolling out of his mouth, even though he knows perfectly well that his mistress can't understand a word he says.

Sten, meanwhile, has come out of his initial shock and gathers the newly awakened patient into his embrace, deeply breathing her in. Honeyed milk and lilac blossoms; her scent mirrors her personal sweetness. At long last he manages to find his tongue: "It is good to see you awake again, _kadan_." He prays she can't hear the hoarseness in his voice. "For a while it seemed as if we were going to lose you."

Her light chuckle so close to his ear reverberates deep in his gut. "I'm told you tried to save me." The laughter is evident in her tone. "So, thank you, but please don't try that again."

Gingerly he sets the girl down. "Yes, I was a fool to think that would work." This is it. It is now or never. The moment has arrived. The Qunari carefully grasps her chin and gazes deep into her eyes. The genuine affection that slumbers in those dark orbs bodes rather well. " _Kadan_ , I…" He falls silent.

"Yes?" She looks upon him with such indulgence on her face, as if she were regarding a child. It is both irritating and endearing. Her touch on his arm feels impossibly hot, electrifying almost. "It's all right, whatever it is you want to say." Is it really? The sweet smile on her lips may wither when she hears what he has to say.

Sten takes a deep breath. " _Kadan_ , I…" _I desire you. Come to bed with me_. "I used your money to buy cookies," is what finally leaves his mouth. _Vashedan!_ The moment has passed and he has failed to seize the opportunity.

"That's good." A confused expression briefly passes over her features. "I told you I'd buy you new ones." The smile on her face widens, the affection in her eyes doubling.

"Yes." What can he do now? Nothing. "I should let you dress." Idly his gaze leaves her face to travel down her body. It is only then that he notices how her nightgown is slightly transparent; she appears to be wearing nothing underneath. Through the ivory cotton the giant perceives the dark tinge of her nipples and the sable fur between her thighs. The heady scent of her arousal drifts into his nostrils, stronger than ever. His pulse begins pounding in his temples. The Warden's whimper, slight though it is, is almost deafening to his ears. Led by instinct, Sten takes a step towards the woman. He wants her. He needs her. He must have her.

But no. He cannot. The little thing has only barely recovered, lucid and vital though she may seem. This is no time to subject her to more potential injury. And so he turns and abruptly leaves the room. "Huh? Where are you going?" he hears that foolish dog say; the girl herself says nothing. Sten rushes to his personal chambers. There is not a moment to lose; he must take care of the pressure in his groin before it drives him mad. Leaning his back against the door, the Qunari reaches into his trousers and fumbles for the organ that is giving him such grief. It is so engorged that it barely yields under his squeezing fingers. How could this fit inside her small body? That doesn't stop his imagination from running wild, though. In his mind's eye she slowly strips off her gown, first revealing her shapely shoulders and then her heavy breasts. He envisions himself ripping away the fabric from sheer impatience. Sten's hand flies up and down his rigid length while lascivious images tumble through his brain.

The Grey Warden bent over before him, moaning in pleasure as he pounds into her again and again, roughly pinching her nipples. The feel of her wet flesh tightly hugging his throbbing cock. Her nails digging bloody furrows down his back while she sits on his lap and wildly rides him. The hoarseness of her voice, screaming his name. The idea of her little face contorted with unadulterated ecstasy finally pushes him over the edge. With a loud grunt, the Qunari spills his seed on the ground. His chest is still heaving with ragged breaths when Sten finally opens his eyes. The corners of his mouth are subtly turned upwards as he recalls the distinct lust in her gaze, her longingly parted lips just before he rushed from her room. So the feeling is mutual. Perhaps all is not lost after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks for reading. Don't be afraid to leave your opinion.


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